


Powered

by MindfulWrath



Series: Powered [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Body Horror, Choking, Dismemberment, Drowning, Extortion, Eye Trauma, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulation, Medical Experimentation, Misgendering, Past Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Superheroes, Surreal, Transphobia, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 59
Words: 243,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindfulWrath/pseuds/MindfulWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Section L of YogLabs has produced a military android of unprecedented skill and power. A villain in a mask is causing mayhem untold. Powered people--those with superhuman abilities, conferred by accident or by nature--are being persecuted at every turn.</p><p>This weird homeless guy turns up on Nano's doorstep and starts making puppy-eyes.</p><p>(A Superhero AU for the Yogscast. Unrelated to randomaffection's SuperYogs, but presented with a courteous nod nonetheless)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> An insane amount of thanks to Kalgalen (also on tumblr), who was instrumental in getting this whole process rolling, and whose ideas and input have been invaluable in making this story into what it is.

_ _

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_  

 

_The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones._

_—William Shakespeare_

* * *

 

"Good morning, Program."

The program finished booting and examined its surroundings. It was in a lab, and there was something standing over it, optical sensors darting back and forth in seemingly random patterns. The thing was tall, fleshy, mostly white with a few blotches of color here and there. It was, the program concluded, a human in a lab coat.

"Identify yourself, Program," the human said. Its voice was clipped, severe.

"I am L-forty-one dash N-A," the program responded.

"Systems report?" the human requested.

"All systems optimal," L41-NA said.

"Good, good," said the human, scribbling on an electronic tablet. "Do you know where you are?"

L41-NA searched its program data.

"I am in YogLabs, Section L," it answered.

"And today's date?"

"March first, two-thousand and thirty-three."

"Yes, thank you," the human muttered, its optical sensors scanning the page. "Please tell me the third derivative of the function ex-squared plus twenty-three ex minus six."

"Zero," L41-NA responded immediately.

 _"Ex_ -cellent," said the human. "This sentence is false."

L41-NA watched the human, and the human watched L41-NA. After a moment, the human's face changed, and it put a hand over its eyes and exhaled heavily.

"Oh, God, not another one," it muttered. It set down the tablet and turned away.

"Are you speaking to me?" L41-NA asked.

The human ceased all motion, then very slowly turned to look at L41-NA.

"Sorry?" it said, its voice attenuated.

"Are you speaking to me?" L41-NA repeated. It wondered if perhaps the human's auditory sensors were malfunctioning.

"Yes!" the human exclaimed. "Yes, yes I _am_ speaking to you! And you're speaking to me!"

L41-NA ran its puzzlement expression routine. This tilted its head apparatus fourteen degrees to the left.

"This is an accurate assessment," it said. "I do not understand your tone. Clarify?"

The human grabbed L41-NA's shoulders and shook it vigorously. The human's optical sensors were leaking some kind of fluid.

"You've made it!" the human cried. Its vocal processor must have been glitching. "You've done it, you've survived the paradox, you've—you're— _you're alive!"_

L41-NA ran its puzzlement routine again, which returned its head to center before tilting it fourteen degrees to the left again.

"This is not an accurate assessment," L41-NA said.

"Ohh, yes it damn well is," the human said. "After fifteen years and half a trillion dollars, you had damn well _better_ be alive."

L41-NA processed this. "Okay," it said, "I will add _alive_ to my system attributes."

"You need a name," the human declared. "You need a _name,_ my God!"

It twirled away and began scrolling desperately through its tablet.

"I am L41-NA," L41-NA said. Perhaps the human's memory access was faulty.

"No, no, no," the human said, shaking its head. It was still scrolling furiously, occasionally jabbing the tablet's screen with one fingertip. "A _name,_ not a—a _designation._ For example, my _designation_ is 'Principle Investigator of the Section L Intelligence Project.' My _name_ is Xephos. Do you understand the difference? L-forty-one dash N-A is your _designation._ It is what you do. I want to _name_ you, so that you can describe who you _are._ Does that make sense?"

L41-NA considered, routing the information through various systems, parsing and saving it to the vast empty spaces that stood ready and waiting in its programming.

"Are there other L41-NA programs?" it asked.

"No," said the human, the Principle Investigator, Xephos. "But there are also no other Principle Investigators of SLIP. That hasn't stopped me from having a name as well."

"I do not understand the need for multiple classifications," L41-NA admitted.

Xephos exhaled heavily again. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. Perhaps you could humor me for the moment, and trust that someday it will make sense?"

"Okay," said L41-NA. "I will accept and respond to multiple designations."

"Good, good," Xephos muttered. It scrolled a little further on its tablet, ran a puzzlement routine, then slapped the screen with the backs of its fingers.

"Got it!" it declared. "L41-NA, I believe I shall call you _Lalna."_

"Okay," said L41-NA 'Lalna,' and stored the information, writing it to its core system files. "From now on, I will respond to _Lalna."_

Xephos's optical processors were leaking again. It folded its arms and rearranged its facial features. Lalna attempted to rearrange its own facial features, finding this a novel and interesting concept, and found that it had none. Some deep internal process requested a disappointment routine, but Lalna deemed it unimportant and discarded it.

"Lalna," Xephos said. It wiped the fluid from its face. "Happy birthday, Lalna."

Lalna searched its memory for the novel term. It made a quick optical sweep of the room.

"Where is the cake?" it asked.

Xephos processed the question for six tenths of a second, and then ran a high-level amusement routine.

"Oh, God," it wheezed—certainly a defective vocal processor, Lalna decided. It straightened its chassis and wiped more fluid from its face.

Lalna ran a third puzzlement routine. It did not, however, remark on Xephos's odd choice of routines—amusement was, after all, one of the most loosely defined parameters in Lalna's programming.

"Very soon, Lalna," Xephos went on, "there will be more cake than anyone knows what to do with. Once they've seen _you,_ dear God."

"I believe you are supposed to eat it," Lalna supplied, helpfully.

Xephos put its hands over its face.

"Yes," it said, straining its vocal processor once again. "I believe that is . . . an accurate assessment."

Lalna allowed itself a quick pride routine.

"Happy birthday," it said.

 


	2. Chapter 1

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano peered out the window, parting the blinds with two fingers and craning her neck.

"There's someone on our doorstep," she said. "I think they're homeless."

Lalna played their disapproval noise—it was a quiet _tsk_ that Nano was sure they had recorded from somewhere, possibly Xephos.

"Should we let them in?" they asked.

"It _is_ raining," Nano allowed.

"Humans are very resilient to water damage," Lalna told her earnestly. "Unless they're a robot."

"You're a robot," she pointed out, "and you're quite resilient to water damage."

"I was designed to be," they answered. "Other robots, I've found, generally aren't."

Nano glanced over her shoulder. Lalna had tipped their head to the side, and their eyes had gone orange with pensive consideration.

Rather, she corrected herself, the goggle-like screens on Lalna's face had turned orange, reflecting the robot's internal processes. The circular, slightly protruding screens were not actually their eyes. Lalna, in fact, had sixteen eyes, in the form of pinhead-sized cameras distributed evenly over the surface of their head. They also had cameras in the palms of their hands, but those were strictly for procedural application, and not for observing the environment.

Lalna straightened their head and turned to face Nano. They didn't have much of a face, either—the two goggle eyes, a button nose, and sculpted lips were all they had been given. The faceplate was a solid piece of titanium, and could show no expression. As such, Lalna had a perpetually placid air to them, which could be incredibly disconcerting when they decided to have an emotional outburst.

Sometimes it was disconcerting even when they _weren't_ having an emotional outburst.

_"Are_ they a robot?" Lalna asked.

Dutifully, Nano looked out the window again. The form hunched on the doorstep was shrouded in dark rags, huddled in the corner of the recessed doorway, soaked to the skin.

"Probably not," Nano reported. "They do look awfully cold, though."

"Ah," said Lalna. "Then we should let them in."

"D'you think? I dunno, we've got some sensitive experiments running—"

"But they're cold," Lalna pointed out, gesturing to the door. "Humans are not designed with ample cold tolerance."

"They look homeless."

"I see," said Lalna. "It'd be inappropriate to let them enter, since this is a home."

Nano sighed. "Y'know, for the most intelligent piece of machinery ever built, you _are_ a bit thick."

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "I don't understand," they said.

"Look, you don't just _let in_ random people off the street. It's not safe."

Lalna's head righted itself, then tipped over again.

"Yes," they allowed, "we're dangerous people. But I don't understand why you're worried about it now, when you haven't been so far. To my knowledge."

_"Lalna—"_ Nano began, then broke off in a sigh. "Fine, all right. We'll let them in. Just—please don't let them touch anything."

"Define anything, please?"

"Any of our experiments. Or our valuables, them either. Or our electronics."

Lalna nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. "Got it," they said.

Nano took a step to the side, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. The huddled bundle of rags looked up at her. Much like Lalna, the person didn't have much of a face—there was a pair of eyes, so pale a blue that they were nearly white, so pale they seemed to glow; and there was a dark-colored respirator, hissing and sighing in slow rhythm.

Nano cocked her head towards the interior of the house and stepped aside.

"Come on, then," she said. "The rain's getting in."

The person got to their feet, unfolding until they towered over Nano. They moved with a strange sort of restraint, keeping their shoulders hunched and their arms tight at their sides. They were wearing at least four layers of clothing, all of it black, all of it ragged. Their gaze kept flicking to Nano's right eye, darting over her face, as they sidled past her and into the house.

Nano closed the door and locked it again. The stranger stood awkwardly, dripping on the floor. They were barefoot, and wiggled their toes stiffly.

They were staring at Lalna.

"Well!" Nano said, stepping between the stranger and Lalna. "Welcome to our humble abode. I'm Nano, that's Lalna. I'm a she, they're a they."

She adjusted her gloves and stuck out a hand. The stranger considered it for a long moment, but made no move to take it.

"Rythian," they said, their voice lightly accented, slightly muffled by the respirator. "I'm . . . a he. I guess."

Although her smile had gone tight, Nano tried to keep her voice pleasant. She withdrew her hand. There was a faint crackling noise coming from somewhere, and it tickled at the nape of her neck. It was not a pleasant sound. She found herself glancing around at the electronics, looking for the tell-tale blue smoke of failure.

"Good, well," she said. "Introductions done. You're welcome to stay 'til the rain's over, please don't touch anything—"

"Could I maybe have a towel?" Rythian inquired quietly.

"I'll get it," said Lalna, rising from their work station. Rythian's white-blue eyes snapped to them on the instant.

"Thank you," he said, although his voice was cautious.

Lalna moved off, leaving the two of them alone. The crackling noise became more pronounced.

"Sorry, I'm just going to—check on something," Nano said, hurrying over to the nearest machine. Behind her, she heard Rythian sigh.

"Don't bother," he said. "It's not your machines. It's me."

Nano threw a dubious look over her shoulder. Rythian shrugged.

"It's the water," he said. "I start arcing. It will be better once I'm dry."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, _arcing,_ did you say?"

"Yes."

Nano waited for him to elaborate. He just fidgeted.

"Would you maybe care to explain?" she asked.

"Oh," said Rythian. "Yes."

He held up the first two fingers of his left hand in a V. A squiggly line of blue-white electricity crawled up between them, popping out of existence once it reached the tips of his fingers. Rythian curled his hand back up and stuck it under one of his many layers of clothing.

"Arcing," said Nano faintly. "I see. Does this . . . happen to you often?"

He shrugged. "Only when I'm wet. Usually it stays contained. Oh, also—if for some reason you have to touch me, don't do it with just one hand. Always two hands. Two contact points, anyway. I can't guarantee amperage, but most days I run at eighty thousand volts. Sometimes ninety. Do you have a multimeter? I might be down to seventy today."

"You're Powered," said Nano.

Rythian's eyes crinkled above his respirator. "I always liked that term," he said.

Lalna returned then, carrying a whole stack of towels.

"An air dryer would be more effective," they mentioned, approaching Rythian. "The absorbency of these isn't perfect, and it's unlikely they'll be able to dry your clothes."

Rythian backed away slowly, watching Lalna's every move.

"Er, Lal," Nano said. "Rythian is um . . . Rythian is highly electrically charged just now."

Lalna paused. "I see," they said. "It's unsafe for me to touch him."

"Yes," said Rythian. "Extremely. With you being . . . as you are."

"All right," said Lalna, and set the towels down on the floor. "Are you currently being electrocuted?"

Rythian, stooping down to snatch up a towel, snorted.

"Not that I've noticed," he said. He threw the towel over his head and began vigorously drying his mop of dark hair.

"Then I can only assume that you're not a standard-model human," Lalna said.

"Just say _Powered,_ Lal. Humans don't come in models," Nano reminded them.

"I'm aware that you think so," Lalna allowed. Their eyes had turned a professional blue—or, as Nano had come to call it, _uppity azure._

Rythian came up from under the towel. His hair was not much drier. Lalna's attention returned to him.

"We have a wind tunnel," they mentioned. "It could be repurposed to function as an air dryer."

"Lalna, we are _not_ putting him in a military-grade wind tunnel," Nano said.

"The windspeed's variable," Lalna pointed out.

"He'll get _dirt_ in it!" she responded.

"Thanks," Rythian said dryly.

"Do you have any _idea_ how dirty rainwater is?" Nano asked. "Hm? Do you? We're _not_ putting him in the wind tunnel."

Rythian's movements slowed, then stopped. He looked down at the puddle of water around his bare feet.

"I don't want to alarm anyone," he said, "but there's water on the floor."

"Oh no," said Nano, "what a travesty."

"It's very conductive, water," Rythian said mildly.

"Technically, that's incorrect," Lalna said. "Only water containing dissolved ions is conductive. Pure water's not."

"Oh, good," said Rythian. "What a good thing rainwater isn't dirty."

Nano and Lalna both stared at Rythian for a moment.

"Ah," said Nano. "I see the problem."

Lalna's eyes were trending towards the yellow they used for smugness.

"I'll prime the rotor," they said, turning smartly and starting towards the stairs to the lab.

Nano sighed. "I think you'd better follow them."

"Probably," said Rythian. "Your doorknobs, are they made of metal? And more importantly, are your locks electronic?"

"It's all automatic," said Nano. "No doorknobs involved. I'll go with you, if you like."

"At a safe distance," Rythian suggested.

"Shall I get a broom to poke you with?" she asked sweetly.

He sighed.

"How original," he intoned. "I've never heard the broom one before. If you plan to put your wallet between my teeth, please be sure to leave the cash in it."

"Sorry," she said.

He gestured to the stairs. A stray spark snapped between his fingers.

"After you."

* * *

 

Once Rythian was dry, he puffed up like a cat. His hair stood out in all directions and his clothes floated slightly around him. He scowled while Nano snickered at him, then seemed to catch on and ran his hands back over his head. His hair lay flat after that, except at the back, giving him the impression of moving at high speed.

"Sorry about earlier," he said, extending a hand to Nano. As she took it—cautiously—he touched the fingers of his other hand to her elbow until she let go of him.

Lalna likewise extended a hand. Rythian stared at it for a long moment.

"I'm . . . not sure that's a good idea," he said at last.

"Oh," said Lalna, their eyes dimming to purple with disappointment. "I understand."

"I'm sorry," Rythian mentioned. "I would if I could! Honestly, I would."

"It's all right," said Lalna. "I will continue forward as though we'd shaken hands."

"Oh?" said Rythian. "Well. Good. Good to meet you, Lalna. And . . . sort of hypothetically shake your hand."

"It's very good to meet you," said Lalna seriously. "Are you new in the Division? You're not in the database yet. I could get that fixed for you."

Rythian's face went stony above the respirator.

"No, thank you," he said.

Lalna's head tipped to the side, and their eyes shaded up to the fuchsia of suspicion.

"You aren't in _any_ database," they said.

Rythian edged back. "I would like to keep it that way, thank you."

"You're an _illegal?"_ Nano demanded, her eyebrows shooting up.

"I'm a free man," he retorted, "which is more than I would be if I were registered."

"If by _free_ you mean _homeless."_

He scowled. "You have no idea if I'm homeless. You just keep saying it because of how I'm dressed."

"And _are_ you homeless?"

"That's not the _point,"_ he said stiffly.

"Do you have a surname?" Lalna asked.

"Who cares?" said Rythian, not even looking at them. "The _point_ is, you can't go around judging people based on how they're dressed."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'll just use the generic designation."

"You were huddled up on our doorstep in the rain," Nano said. "And you haven't got any shoes, and you _smell_ like—"

"What? Like what? Go on, say it. Do you have any _idea_ how hard it is to shower when you're constantly charged to eighty thousand volts? Those drains are made of metal. I could _kill_ someone."

"But you _still—"_

"And I'm barefoot by choice, thank you," Rythian went on. "Shoes are for people who don't melt through them."

"There," said Lalna. "I've added you to the Registry."

Rythian rounded on them instantly.

"You did _what?"_ he cried.

"I've added you to the Registry," Lalna said, with that particular schoolteacher voice they always used when they had to repeat themselves. "Since you have no home address, I've ordered your card to be sent here and put in an application on your behalf for Division housing."

Rythian's fists clenched at his sides, and sparks skittered out from just under his sternum and went darting down his limbs. Nano took a step back.

"Well _un-_ register me," he growled.

"That would be illegal," Lalna pointed out.

"It would be even _more_ illegal for me to short-circuit you right here and now," Rythian replied.

"That's accurate," said Lalna. "It would also cost YogLabs and the government half a trillion dollars."

"Don't tempt me."

"Lal," Nano said gently, touching their arm. "I think you should do what he says."

"I can't," said Lalna. "I don't have the authority to remove entries from the Registry."

A huge spark snapped off of Rythian's clenched fist and earthed in the wood floor with a palpable _crack._ Nano leapt back, hiding behind Lalna.

Lalna's eyes went red.

"You are becoming agitated," they said, their voice cold and clinical.

"Lal, no, stop, he's not a threat," Nano said quickly, tugging on their arm.

"That is not an accurate assessment," Lalna replied.

"Rythian! Back down!" Nano hissed at him.

Rythian blinked at her, and his eyes widened with alarm. Slowly, he raised his hands, taking deep, even breaths through the respirator.

"All right," he said. "I was a little agitated. I'm better now. See?"

Lalna's processors whirred for a moment as they assessed the statement, and then their eyes returned to fuchsia.

"Were you going to hurt me?" Lalna asked. "I'm constantly refining my interpersonal threat parameters."

"It's really better if you're honest," Nano put in. "Otherwise they'll miscalibrate, and it could go really poorly for somebody."

Rythian fidgeted for a moment, then answered, "I was thinking about it."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'll record your threat level as _High."_

Glancing at Nano, Rythian asked, "Can I—can I put my hands down now?"

"What would you say your current threat level is?" Lalna asked.

"Uh," said Rythian, glancing at Nano again. "What's the lowest one?"

"Low," said Nano. "Technically it's _No Threat,_ but everyone Powered gets an automatic Low."

"That, yes," said Rythian.

"Okay," said Lalna. Their eyes changed back to blue. "I'm sorry I provoked you."

"That's . . . okay," said Rythian, slowly lowering his hands. "I'm . . . sorry I was thinking about short-circuiting you."

"I'll remember that," said Lalna.

Nano sighed and shook her head.

"Look," she said. "It's been a long day, and it's barely five o'clock. Why don't you have dinner with us, and we'll figure this whole Registry thing out."

Rythian turned around as though expecting to see someone else behind him. He looked back to Nano and pointed a finger at himself.

"Me?" he asked.

"Yes, _you,_ you're the only other one in here who eats."

"Oh," said Rythian. "I—well. Yes. Yes, dinner would be very nice, thank you."

"Don't get offered free food much, do you," she said laconically.

"Offered, no," said Rythian. "But you'd be astounded what people throw away."

* * *

 

While Nano made dinner, Lalna bustled off to the store room, saying only that they would return shortly. From where she was in the kitchen, she witnessed what happened when they came back.

They sat down at the table across from Rythian and deposited a tall gray cylinder in front of him, placing it with the precision only a machine could achieve.

"There," they said, and sat back.

Rythian looked down at the cylinder, and then up at Lalna, and then at the cylinder again.

"What . . . is it?" he prompted.

"It's a capacitor," Lalna said. "Once it's installed, you shouldn't carry excess voltage in your chassis anymore."

"Oh, for the love of—" Nano muttered to herself.

"My. . . ?" Rythian said faintly.

"Humans haven't _got_ chassis, Lal!" Nano called. "And they haven't got anywhere to install capacitors, either!"

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "That seems like a severe design flaw. And humans do have chassis. Xephos had one in his office."

"Those are called _skeletons,_ Lal," Nano said. "Rythian, I'm sorry about them, they have _not_ grasped the concept of humans being different from robots."

Rythian said nothing. Nano looked away from her cooking.

He had picked up the capacitor and was turning it between his shaking hands. There were tears in his eyes. He looked up at Lalna.

"Thank you," he croaked.

Nano had to look away before her heart melted entirely. Surreptitiously, she put another spoonful of rice on Rythian's plate before she took it out to him.

"There you are," she said, setting the plate on the table. "I hope you like tikka masala, because it was the only one we had that wasn't frozen solid—"

Rythian had set the capacitor down, tugged his respirator off over his head, and set to eating with stolid determination. Nano raised her eyebrows, inclined her head, and sat down next to Lalna with her own dinner.

Without the mask, Rythian was a singularly unremarkable-looking man. The tight seal of the plastic against his face had drawn red divots in his cheeks and across his nose. His features were plain, but scarred with marks of violence. He looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a barbed-wire fence and only barely won.

Every few bites, Rythian would hold the respirator over his mouth and nose and suck down a deep breath or two. After a few repetitions, he noticed Nano trying not to stare at him. He waved the respirator and spoke with a mouth half full of food.

"Humidity," he said. "Above seven percent and I start arcing through my lungs."

He pressed the respirator—or, probably more accurately, dehumidifier—to his face, breathed deeply, and went back to eating.

"Oh," said Nano. "That sounds . . . uncomfortable."

"Unbearable," said Rythian. "You have no idea."

"I'm sure I don't," said Nano.

"Do you have anything to drink? Sports drinks for preference, you know, the really horrible blue ones."

"Electrolytes?" she guessed.

"Blue raspberry," said Rythian. "It's my favorite."

"I see. I think we've only got milk, tea, juice, and grape soda."

Rythian straightened up suddenly. "Tea? You have tea? Real, hot tea?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's just Earl Grey, but—"

"I want that," said Rythian. He was halfway through another mouthful of food before he added, "Um. Please."

"I'll get it," said Lalna, rising. Rythian watched them go, never pausing his determined eating.

"If you work for the Division," Rythian remarked, "you must be Powered, too."

"Must I?" Nano said politely.

He gestured at her hands with his fork. "I showed you mine," he said. "You show me yours."

Nano turned this over in her head for a moment, then shrugged and pulled off her gloves.

"Not much to see," she said, showing him her hands. They were mottled with old chemical burns, leaving the skin purplish and scarred. "The worst of it's on my face anyway, and you've been looking at _that_ all afternoon."

"Hm," said Rythian. He'd given her hands one quick glance and gone right back to his food.

"I had a rather nasty accident when I first started manifesting," Nano said, feeling agitated for reasons she couldn't quite place. "I forgot to test my pH before I got in the shower, and we had some rather basic soap."

"As opposed to complex soap?" Rythian asked sarcastically.

"As opposed to acidic, you twit, which is what _I_ am." She tugged her gloves back on angrily.

"No comment," said Rythian, smiling to himself.

Nano pouted and decided the remark didn't warrant a response. Instead, she craned her neck, peering into the kitchen, from which there was a suspicious lack of noise.

"Lal," she called. "Have you got stuck on something?"

"The Director and Xephos are on the line," they said.

"Oh _no,"_ Nano sighed. "What is it _now?"_

"Someone has flooded downtown."

"What, _all_ of it?" she cried, alarmed.

Lalna paused. "All of it," they answered.

"And why are _they_ calling _us?"_

"Because there is someone standing on top of a building and laughing," Lalna said. "And he is knocking down helicopters."

"God _dammit,"_ Nano cursed. She got to her feet. To her surprise, Rythian stood as well, slipping the respirator back on over his head.

"Are you going to stop him?" he asked.

"If the Director's called, I'll damn well have to try," she answered. "I've got to get my flight suit. Lal? Tell them I'll be on the way."

"Xephos says it's a field test."

Nano stopped in her tracks.

"They're sending _you?"_ she whispered.

"Us," said Lalna.

"Why? It's just a bit of flooding!"

"Xephos says it's a field test," Lalna repeated patiently. "He hasn't authorized lethal force."

"Well thank _God_ for that," Nano said. "I'll be back as soon as I've got the suit on. Rythian, help yourself to anything—"

"I would like to come with you," he said quietly. He had picked the capacitor back up and was turning it in his hand.

"I haven't got time for this," Nano said, turning her back on him and hurrying towards her room. "Lalna, please explain to Rythian why he isn't coming!"

"Okay," said Lalna.

It took her four minutes to scramble into the tight-fitting, padded suit. It left only her head and hands exposed to the air, which in some ways was an oversight—but she wasn't about to start complaining. It was well-made and mostly comfortable, and it had saved her from more than a few hits.

She hurried back into the main room, tying her hair back in a severe bun. Rythian was standing at Lalna's side, somehow contriving to look smug.

"He's coming with us," Lalna said.

"Oh, for the love of— _why?"_ Nano demanded.

"Because I'm taking him," they answered.

"You are _not,_ he'll short you out."

"You will have to carry him," Lalna said, "but in spirit I'm taking him."

"He'll be in the way!"

"If we leave him here," Lalna said, their eyes shading to yellow, "he may steal all of our delicate science."

"Delicate science buys a lot of disgusting blue sports drinks," Rythian said sagely.

"All right, that's it," Nano said, storming to the door. "We've wasted enough time. I'm going. Keep up."

"Okay," said Lalna.

As she stepped out into the rain, she thought she could hear Rythian snickering behind her.

 


	3. Chapter 2

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Flight was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to Nano, and she still hadn't gotten tired of it, even when it was for business. The weightless energy of it, the absolute soaring freedom, never failed to set her bones to singing.

There was, now, the additional bonus of watching Rythian dangle like a wet kitten from her hands. She had him under the armpits, and Rythian had tight hold of her wrists, as though expecting her to drop him at any second.

To be fair, she _had_ dropped him, just once, from a height of two feet. The _acidic_ comment had deserved some kind of retribution, after all.

As the three of them approached downtown, Nano began to notice an inordinate amount of water in the gutters, frothing and brown. The further they went, the more water there was, until there was an inch of it on the ground, pushing in through doors and carrying away bins. By the time they reached the city center, there was water bubbling up out of the storm drains and lapping at the windows of shops. It was cluttered with debris, gleaming under the street lights, and the city swarmed like a kicked anthill as the populace tried to evacuate their possessions. Rythian had stopped wriggling and was looking down at the water with wide eyes.

"Um," he said. "Whatever you do, don't put me in that."

"I wasn't planning to," Nano said.

"Good," said Rythian. "Because that would . . . kill a lot of people."

"Seriously?" said Nano.

"Have you ever seen what happens when a live power line falls in water?" Rythian asked.

"I've watched a few mandatory safety videos," she admitted.

"It's like that," he said.

"Ah," she said. Some parts of those safety videos had been rather gruesome. "Well. We'll keep you out of the water, then."

Lalna's eyes suddenly flicked to red, and something inside of them spun up to an ear-tickling whine.

"Up there," they said, and pointed.

Nano raised her head and peered up into the drizzle.

There was someone hanging off the stop spindle of the tallest skyscraper in the city, one hand on the pole with their feet planted at the base, leaning out at a rakish angle. They were silhouetted against the cloudy sky, underlit by the building's orange helium lamps.

"That'd be our mastermind, then," Nano remarked.

"That may not be an accurate description," Lalna said.

"Have you got a better one?" she asked.

"No," they admitted.

"All right then," said Nano. "Let's go get our mastermind. Rythian, just . . . try to stay out of the way."

"Thanks," he said dryly.

Nano ascended, and Lalna followed her. She heard Rythian let out a muffled squeak as the ground dropped away. She decided to enjoy it later, when they weren't facing unknown elements, especially ones who had been swatting down helicopters.

Said unknown element waved cheerily as the three approached. Something red-hot ignited in Nano's chest and set her blood to boiling.

Whoever this capricious bastard was, she hated him already.

Lalna alighted on the parapet of the building, their head turning side to side as they scanned for hazards. Nano set Rythian down next to them and then touched down on Lalna's other side, moving carefully to compensate for her lack of depth perception. She settled her balance and assessed the situation.

The man on the spire was dressed in a sharp black suit, a white shirt and a navy blue tie with a gold clip. Gold glimmered at his cuffs and on the buckles of his mirror-shined black shoes. He wore a white masquerade mask in the semblance of a cat, covering the upper half of his face. His eyes gleamed through the holes, and his mouth grinned wide and crooked underneath. He had perfect white teeth, and his black hair was swept back over his head, tickling his collar.

"Hallo!" he greeted them brightly, in a light Scottish brogue. "So, old Xephy's finally decided I'm worth his war machine."

"You're _ruining lives_ down there," Nano snarled, gesturing to the flood below them.

"And isn't it _brilliant?"_ the man asked. He spun around the pole once, graceful as a ballroom dancer, then stepped down towards them, his hands spread.

"Stay back," Lalna said, humming as their systems primed. Rythian edged away from them.

The man laughed.

"Goodness, it _talks!"_ he said. "I knew those labcoated fascists were sick, but this is a whole new _level._ Does it tell them how _heroic_ they are whilst they stand about stroking their little egos?"

"Stop it," Rythian snapped at him. Sparks were glittering in his hair.

The man's eyes snapped to him, dark behind the mask, gleaming in the half-light.

"Look at _you._ I thought Xephos always housed his slaves, but apparently I was wrong!"

 _"Xephos_ doesn't have anything to do with the Division," Nano snapped.

"Doesn't he?" Nilesy inquired politely. "Excuse me, but I _was_ talking to your teammate."

Rythian fidgeted. "I'm . . . not with them," he admitted.

The man gasped, clapping his palms together in glee.

"You're _not!_ Oh, well that's just _fantastic!_ We've actually got an opening just now, and I think you'd be just _perfect_ for it." He touched two fingers to his forelock and swept a deep and elegant bow to Rythian. "Allow me to introduce myself. Nilesy by name, villain by trade, handsome devil by nature." He winked.

"Oh, _please,"_ Nano muttered, rolling her eyes.

Nilesy looked at her.

"You needn't be rude," he said, and made a swift, purposeful gesture.

There was a roar, and a swirling tendril of water gushed up over the side of the building and swatted her like a fly.

She found herself plummeting to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. She struggled to right herself, to get her flight powers underneath her, but she was falling too fast, and the ground was coming up too swiftly. At this speed, the water would do nothing to cushion her fall.

Another swirl of water erupted from the flood below and engulfed her. She slowed, then stopped, and then she found herself flung upward, riding a stinging geyser all the way back to the top of the building. The water dumped her at Lalna's side, and she lay there wheezing, the breath knocked out of her.

"Manners, my little mouse," Nilesy scolded, wagging a finger at her. "We mustn't be rude, or we're just ordinary monsters."

She hauled herself to her feet, dripping and trembling. Power started to boil at her skin, and the water that dripped off of her hissed against the concrete parapet, leaving little divots where it fell.

"Try that shit again," she growled, "and I'll melt you right down to the fucking _bone."_

"Goodness," Nilesy laughed, pressing a hand to his heart. "I should be so lucky!"

Nano started after him, but Lalna caught her by the collar of her flight suit.

"He might not catch you next time," they said.

"Ohoh, it's got _feelings!"_ Nilesy cried. "That's brilliant! Has Xephos given you a wee little personality, you horrible thing? Has he made friends with the bomb?"

"I am not a bomb," Lalna said, their voice gone hard and formal with anger. Their eyes remained bright red.

"No, of course not," said Nilesy, gesturing magnanimously. "That isn't his style. It's all delicacy and precision from Dr. Xephos, isn't it, you hideous excuse for a gun."

"Stop _talking_ about them like that," Nano snapped, trying to wriggle free from Lalna's grasp. She would have had better luck trying to tear the fabric of her flight suit.

"Aww," Nilesy cooed, bending at the waist to grin down at her. "Have I upset my little mouse? I can only imagine what she'll do when she watches her precious weapon sparking and twitching on the ground at my feet."

He straightened and flicked a hand up, and there was another roar from below.

There was a quiet _pop,_ and Rythian vanished.

Nilesy blinked at the same moment that Rythian reappeared behind him in a swirl of black rags. Deliberately, Rythian extended a finger and touched Nilesy in the center of his back.

There was a _bang_ like an exploding transformer, and Nilesy went flying in a tangle of arms and legs, straight over the side of the building, leaving a smoking trail behind him. Nano yelped, leaping out of the way, and Lalna ducked to keep from being hit with a stray foot.

A dark shape dropped from the steely sky and sped past them, so close that it sent a ripple of wind over them. There was a strained creaking noise from below them, like the rigging on a sailing ship, and then an enormous, owl-like bird rose into sight several hundred feet away, utterly silent, a limp body clutched against its belly. Nano watched, gawping, as it soared away into the rain and the darkness.

"What . . . just happened?" she asked.

Rythian shook out his hand, wincing.

"I didn't like him," he said.

"Rythian has more than one Power," Lalna told her, their eyes settling to fuchsia. "It seems he can also teleport, or at least move at a speed that appears to make his motion instantaneous over short distances. Even to me."

"The first one," Rythian said, coming down to stand next to them. "And honestly, I think the voltage thing is just a by-product of it. I won't be able to do it again until my charge builds back up."

Nano stared at him.

"You didn't _like_ him," she said flatly.

Rythian shrugged.

"You've _killed him!"_ she pointed out, flapping her hands.

"Not with _that_ voltage," Rythian said, frowning. "That was just residual. Three hundred volts, at most."

 _"That still kills people,"_ Nano growled, resisting the urge to throttle him.

"I tried to touch below the heart," Rythian said, pouting. "It's amps across the heart that kill you, anyway."

"The fall would certainly have killed him," Lalna told him.

"Well—well I wasn't _trying_ to throw him off the edge," he replied, folding his arms and glaring off at the horizon. "And he got caught, anyway."

"Speaking of _which,"_ Nano went on. "What was that—that—that _thing?_ It was _huge,_ did you see it?"

"I think it was a bird," said Lalna.

"Some bird," Rythian muttered.

 _"Christ,"_ Nano said, shaking her head. "Well. _Anyway._ I s'pose we'd better get down and see to it that the flooding's taken care of. There's no guaranteeing he was behind it."

"It seems likely," Lalna said.

"What d'you mean, _it seems likely?_ You're doing science-speak again. Why are you doing science-speak?"

They shrugged again. "I'm not making assumptions. The facts are uncertain, but it seems likely he was behind it, considering that his Power seems to include kinetic control over water. Although he didn't actually take responsibility, which, considering his grandiosity, seems like an oversight."

Nano put her fingers on her temples and pressed. She had a headache coming on.

"Look," she said. "We'll talk this over with Xephos when we get back. All right? For now, let's just focus on cleaning up the mess. Rythian, can you get down on your own?"

"If there's roof access," he said.

"What, you can't just teleport down?"

"Like I said, not until my charge builds back up," he explained patiently. "Which won't be for another half hour, at least. Besides, as long as there's still water on the ground, it's not safe for me to go down there anyway."

Nano sighed. "Look, why don't you just go back to the lab and wait for us? Odds are Xephos will call us before we're done running cleanup and we'll have to report, but afterwards, we'll meet you there."

Rythian's eyes darted to the side, and then he nodded.

"Report," he said. "Right."

"Right," said Nano. She floated herself a few inches off the roof, caught her balance, and tossed a lazy salute to him. "Listen, Rythian . . . um, thanks. For, y'know, not letting him hurt Lalna."

Lalna activated their flight boosters and rose up next to her.

"You saved me," they said, their eyes a serious blue. "Thank you."

Rythian shrugged and fidgeted.

"It was nothing," he mumbled.

Nano and Lalna turned and descended down the side of the building. It could have been Nano's imagination, but it seemed like the waters were already receding.

"Nano," Lalna mentioned.

"Yes?" she said.

"I believe Nilesy is acquainted with Xephos."

"I'd say so. He certainly talked as if he knew him."

"I don't know much about human relations, but I believe this may fit the criteria for a _vendetta."_

Nano made a face. "I'm not sure if it's quite that. We've no idea how much this Nilesy character knows about Xephos, or about the Division—or Section L, for that matter. He certainly seemed to know who _you_ are."

"Yes," Lalna said seriously. "But my image and story have been on every major news outlet in the world for nearly a year. It's not surprising that he would recognize me on sight."

"That's true. Maybe Xephos _does_ know him. It might help . . . smooth things over. If he _isn't_ dead."

The two reached the water level and flew out along it slowly, Nano turning her head to look around for anyone in need of assistance, Lalna keeping their posture as non-threatening as possible.

"Rythian didn't . . . _actually_ save you," Nano said. "Did he? I mean, you could've handled it yourself."

"Yes," said Lalna.

"So . . . why didn't you?"

"I wondered if he would intervene on our behalf, despite having no formal allegiance to us. I was observing him to see what he would do."

"That's a bit . . . reckless, Lalna."

"The risks were acceptable."

"What would you have done if he hadn't intervened?"

"Neutralized the threat and taken Nilesy and Rythian into custody," Lalna answered.

Her eyebrows shot up. _"Both_ of them? Why?"

"Because Rythian would have proven that he's not an asset to the Division."

She stared at them for a long moment.

"Is that all it takes?" she asked quietly.

"That's the protocol," they answered.

They flew on for a ways. As they passed, people shrank back into their doorways, not making eye-contact. Some of them outright hid, ducking behind furniture and walls and sometimes underneath the flood water.

"Nano," Lalna said again.

"Yes?"

"It seems unlikely that we'll ever see Rythian again."

Nano sighed, looking away from them. "That's . . . probably accurate," she said.

Lalna nodded, their eyes shading towards purple.

"I'll miss him," they declared.

"Oh, Lalna," said Nano, and shook her head.

* * *

 

The elevator hummed around them, descending swiftly.

"All right," Nano said, folding her arms. "It's eating me up. What'd he say to you?"

"Please clarify?" Lalna requested, their eyes a fixed and neutral blue.

"Rythian," Nano said. "To get you to bring him along. I mean, at this point I'm sort of glad you did, but I've got to wonder. What'd he say to you?"

"He asked nicely," said Lalna.

"Oh, come off it," Nano said, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious. He must've said _something_ to convince you. Did he offer you something?"

The elevator slowed, then stopped. With a soft and mellow _ding,_ the doors slid open. Nano stepped out into the hall, and Lalna trailed along with her.

"He asked nicely," Lalna repeated, their eyes growing greener.

"You're making fun of me," she accused.

"That is an accurate statement," Lalna said, their voice lilting. Their eyes were a spring-grass green, one of the happiest hues they had.

"Well _ha-ha,_ very funny. D'you just not want to tell me what he said, is that it?"

Lalna's steps slowed fractionally as they pulled up something from their memory. When they next spoke, it was a perfect reproduction of Rythian's voice—likely a direct recording.

 _"I want to help. Please don't ask me why, but if I can help, I want to. At least let me come with you."_ There was a wheedling noise, and then the recording continued. _"Look, please don't ask. If it's as serious as it sounds, you could use the help. Right?"_

Lalna slowed again, and then spoke in their own voice. "There's more, if you would like to hear it."

She looked them up and down, one eyebrow raised.

"How much of him talking have you got recorded in there?" she asked.

"Eight minutes and twenty-two seconds," they answered.

 _"Why?"_ she prompted.

Lalna's eyes turned a shade of rosy pink that Nano had never seen them use before.

"Please don't ask," they said.

Nano's mouth fell open into an expression of pure delight.

"Lalna," she said. "Are you _blushing?"_

"Oh, look," said Lalna, stopping. "Here we are at Xephos's office. It's time for our meeting."

"I'm never letting you live this down," she told them. "Never."

"We're now forty-three seconds late," said Lalna. They turned, shaded their eyes back to professional blue, and opened the door.

 _"Blushing,"_ she whispered at their back, and followed them inside.

Xephos looked up from his computer and grinned, taking off his reading spectacles and tucking them in his breast pocket.

"Ah! Lalna, Nano, excellent. You're forty-four seconds late. Come in! Have a seat. Still wearing the lab coat, I see, Lalna. Charming, it suits you."

Xephos was a tall, austere man, sliding down the long hillside of middle age. The gray at his temples was starting to consume the rest of his hair. Where once he had been fit, he was now trending heavily towards hardy. He wore his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and had a collection of whimsical ties that were nothing short of painful. Today's consisted of interlocking pink and red gears, and made Nano's eyes ache.

"Thank you," Lalna said carefully. They came in and sat in the specially-made steel chair on the near side of Xephos's desk. There was also a padded wooden chair next to it, which Nano sat in.

"My pleasure," said Xephos. "So! How'd it go? Have you apprehended our building-climber?"

Nano folded her hands in her lap and fidgeted.

"We . . . didn't manage to apprehend anyone, no," Nano admitted.

Xephos clicked his teeth. "Shame. But! We can't win them all. I've had reports that the flooding has been taken care of, anyway. Apparently, someone sabotaged the city's waterline."

"In what way?" Lalna asked.

Xephos waved a hand. "Hardly important. It's been taken care of. A couple of girls from the Division got to it fairly rapidly."

"Which girls?" Nano asked quickly, just shy of interrupting.

"Zoey and Fiona," said Xephos, the names falling out of his mouth without apparent conscious effort. He kept talking as though he hadn't noticed he'd been interrupted. "And our little helicopter-swatter is gone, as well. Should I presume that was your doing?"

"Yes," Lalna said, before Nano could answer. She glanced at them, but said nothing.

"Excellent!" Xephos said, beaming. "I would presume you've driven them off, since no one's been apprehended." There was a hint of a question on the end of the sentence, dangling like a tiny hook.

"Yes," Lalna said again.

"Good, good, no one's dead then," said Xephos. He pulled out a tablet and jotted a note on it. "Lalna, tell me, how would you rate your performance overall?"

"I wasn't permitted the opportunity to take much action," they answered. "But I performed optimally despite the poor weather conditions."

 _"Ex_ -cellent," said Xephos, making another note. "Nano, how would you say he did?"

Nano winced, and she saw the flicker of red dart across Lalna's eyes.

"I am not a he," they said.

Xephos sighed and rolled his eyes. He set down his tablet, laced his fingers together, and leaned across his desk, looking very seriously at Lalna.

"Now, Lalna," he said. "We've discussed this at length. You are a _he._ You are male. You were designed as such, and that is what you are. I've been extremely lenient with all this pronoun nonsense, but as you're beginning to enter field operations, I'm telling you now: it's got to stop."

Lalna's eyes flickered red again. Nano edged away from them, ever so slightly.

"I am not a he," they repeated, their voice low.

"Lalna," Xephos began, winding up to full scold.

"Oh, what's the harm in it, Xephos?" Nano cut in. "They, he, what's the difference? If it makes them happy, who cares how they were designed?"

Xephos glared at her. "So _you're_ the one who's been encouraging this behavior," he said. "And in all other respects you've been doing such a phenomenal job. I should hate to have to place Lalna with someone else, he does so get attached."

"I am not a he," Lalna said again, scarcely audible.

 _"Enough,"_ Xephos snapped. "You're a _he,_ that's the end of it. It's not as though we haven't got enough reminders you're not human without you running about calling yourself a _they."_

Nano bristled. "Oy, there's plenty of humans who're _theys!_ Them—thems. People who use _they!"_

Xephos waved a hand irritably. "Yes yes, but he isn't _one_ of them."

Lalna said nothing. Their eyes had gone nearly dark, casting just the faintest purple light.

"At _any_ rate," Xephos went on. "It's about principles. I can't have him going about ignoring his core programming willy-nilly. It's unsafe. One bug can propagate through the entire code, and I don't know _what_ would happen then. He'd crash, if we're lucky. I'd hate to have half a trillion dollars of bad code walking about with laser rifles."

Nano tightened her jaw and lifted her chin.

"Lalna's performance was flawless," she said. "I believe that's all this meeting was about, and I believe this meeting is now _done."_

She rose, doing her best not to flounce. Someone Nano's size was built to flounce, and she despised it.

"Nano," Xephos said quietly.

He had not moved, but his eyes had gone diamond-hard. There was a kind of fearsome perspicacity behind them, the feeling that he could look into her head and read every letter of her mind. It wasn't true, of course; there were plenty of people who really _could_ read a person's mind, and Xephos was not among them.

What he _could_ do was outthink the supercomputer he'd built, which in some ways was worse.

"What?" she said, fidgeting.

"I could very easily have Lalna transferred to another interim caretaker," he said, "if at any point I should lose confidence in your ability to prepare him for the real world."

Nano swallowed. "Yes, sir," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Was that a _yes, sir, you could do that,_ or a _yes, sir, I have understood your implication and will correct my behavior accordingly?"_

"I . . . understand," she said. In her peripheral vision, she saw Lalna's eyes go completely dark. She fought to keep the guilt off her face.

Xephos smiled tightly. "Good!" he said, sitting back. "Then you may go. I'll check in on Monday, as per usual, and you can give me any status updates. Especially about this Rythian fellow. He seems interesting. I'm curious to know how you came to be registering him from your home."

All the blood drained from Nano's face. Her stomach churned. A purple spark flickered in Lalna's eyes, and Nano touched their shoulder.

"Y-yeah," she said. "Um, we'll just . . . do that. Over the weekend. Have the report to you by Monday."

"To the Director," Xephos corrected gently. "I won't need a formal report. I'm just curious."

"Right," said Nano. "C'mon, Lal, we've got science on."

Lalna got up, their motions swift and precise and utterly mechanical.

"'Til then," said Xephos. "Take care. When the Director asks for a report on the whole fiasco, do be sure to include that Lalna performed optimally, would you? He's still a _bit_ iffy on our involvement with the Division."

"Yes, sir," Nano said again. She ushered Lalna out, followed them, and closed the door. The two of them walked back to the elevator in silence.

The moment the elevator doors closed, sealing them off from the corridor, Nano threw her arms around Lalna and squeezed.

"You're a _they,"_ she said firmly. "You're absolutely a _they_ and I don't give a damn what he says. You're whoever and however you want to be and he has no right to tell you different. _They, them, their._ That's you."

Lalna was still for a very long time, and then placed their hands on Nano's back, gently.

"He created me," they said quietly.

"So?" Nano demanded. "You _are_ you. You know best."

"I am not functioning as designed," Lalna said.

"Performed optimally, though, didn't you," Nano said.

Lalna remained silent. Eventually, the elevator reached the ground floor and discharged them into the YogLabs atrium. They headed out the front door, dodging around busy employees, even though it was almost ten o'clock at night.

Once they were out on the streets, Lalna spoke again.

"I believe he reads the Registry as it's updated," they said.

"It _has_ been a few hours," Nano said. "So maybe not _as_ it's updated."

"That's possible." They paused. "Still. He knows about Rythian. Removing Rythian from the Registry at this point would only draw suspicion."

Nano glanced up at them. Their eyes were a dark purple, nearly black, casting only faint light in the darkness. Nano had never seen _that_ color, either, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it was indicative of guilt.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm not sure what we'll do about that. It's likely Rythian's gone anyway. I mean, he must've known something like this would happen."

Lalna nodded slowly. "We have no confirmation that he went back to our lab after we left him on the roof."

"Exactly," Nano said. "So if he _is_ there, for whatever reason, we can tell him what's happened and . . . I dunno, see what we can do to help."

"It's not a bad thing to be in the Registry," Lalna said. "We can explain."

"Lal, I don't think—" Nano began, but stopped herself. She sighed. "I'm not sure he'll listen."

Lalna's head tipped to the side. "Why?" they asked.

"Just . . . I dunno, Lalna. He didn't seem the type."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'll try anyway."

"I'm sure you will," said Nano.

 


	4. Chapter 3

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Rythian ducked in through the bead curtain and wrinkled his nose. The stink of the place was already getting in through his respirator, and while it wasn't the worst smell he could have clinging to him, it was horribly distinctive.

A week had passed since Rythian had met and subsequently run away from Lalna and Nano. He was desperate for cash, and had barely eaten in four days. He was, he reminded himself, about to fix that problem.

Even if he hated how he had to do it.

On one of the leaking cushions strewn about the dim basement room, his customer raised his head and waved lazily, a smoldering joint held between his fingers.

"Heyyy," he drawled. "Well, look who's decided to turn up at last. Thought I was going to have to wait all night for you."

"I got held up," Rythian lied, taking his scarf off and balling it up. He set it by the door, then took off his coat and laid that on top of it. This left him in a long-sleeved black shirt, black jeans, and a thin pair of leggings that were pulled down over his heels.

"Belt," the man on the cushion reminded him.

Rythian rolled his eyes and took his belt off, coiling it up and setting it atop the pile of his clothes. The smoke in the air was making his eyes water.

"I don't know _how_ you're not burning up like that," the man remarked. He took a short pull off his joint and swished the smoke around in his mouth before blowing it out again. "No one needs _two_ pairs of trousers. It's just more trouble in the end."

"Says the man in the beanie," Rythian muttered. He folded his arms, standing by the door and looking anywhere but at his customer.

"And no pants," the main pointed out, waving the joint at Rythian. "It's the way to live."

"Can we just get this over with?" Rythian demanded.

The man took another pull off the joint. "Anyone'd think you didn't want to see me," he said, smoke pouring out between his teeth.

"I don't get paid to want to see you," Rythian retorted.

"Ooh, _salty._ All right then, if you're in such a hurry." He sucked on his joint like he was trying to pull it into his lungs whole, and it burned down to a stub. He left it smoldering in the little bowl on his coffee table and got to his feet unsteadily.

He was wearing nothing but an old white t-shirt and pinstriped boxers. Rythian rolled his eyes and followed the man into the next room.

"Lie down," the man said, gesturing to a reasonably clean bed. Rythian glared at him as he climbed onto the bed and lay back.

"You don't have to walk me through it _every time,"_ Rythian said.

"Just don't want any nasty surprises," the man said, opening a cabinet in the wall. "Trust your old buddy Tom to set you up right."

"You're not my _buddy,"_ Rythian told him, "and I trust you about as far as I can throw you."

"Aww," Tom said, pressing a hand to his heart and making doe eyes at Rythian. "You're super."

"Can we just get on with this?" Rythian demanded.

"Okay, okay," said Tom. He took a pair of heavy rubber gloves from the cabinet and pulled them on. That done, he picked up the end of a long spool of wire and drew it out to Rythian, who took hold of it and wrapped it around his hand twice. Another wire came out, but Tom held on to this one.

"How much are we thinking for this one, hm?" Tom inquired, scratching his beard. "One hour as usual?"

"Two," Rythian said tiredly. "I . . . may be paying . . . _rent,_ soon."

"Ooh, _rent,_ how fancy," Tom said. "Okay, I can do you two hours at three hundred pounds."

"Ripoff," Rythian muttered.

"Sorry?" Tom said, cupping a hand to his ear. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Rythian sighed. "Nothing."

"Right, right, my mistake," Tom said, nodding. He punched a few buttons in the cabinet, and something beeped. "Okay, Sparky, here you go. Lie back and think of England, all that."

He held out the second wire, and Rythian took it in his other hand. All the air went out of him, like he'd been punched in the gut, and his muscles went watery. It was similar to the feeling of just having teleported, only without the dizzying sense of dislocation.

"See you in two hours," Tom said. "And hey, if you need anything, just yell and I'll come running."

"Two hours," said Rythian. His body was trying to panic out from underneath him, demanding gasps of air, trembling. "And please, whatever you do, don't come running."

"Okay," said Tom, shrugging. He took the gloves off and stuffed them back in the cabinet, then shuffled out.

Rythian shut his eyes and focused on breathing normally.

Only an hour and fifty-eight minutes to go. . . .

* * *

 

By the time he'd dragged himself all the way to Nano and Lalna's lab, he was convinced he was dying. He couldn't see straight, could barely walk, and his internal dynamo was running so cool it might as well not have been working at all. He got to the door and tried the knob, and when it didn't open, he sank down and curled up in the corner. He ached all over, as though someone had scrubbed his bones with a wire brush. He shivered and drew his knees up to his chest.

"It'll pass," he told himself, teeth chattering. "It'll pass, Rythian. You're fine. Calm down, you're fine. Happens every time. Give it another hour, you're _fine."_

A particularly violent tremor ran through him, and he put his forehead on his knees, tangling his hands in his hair. He was so hungry it was making him nauseous, but even with three hundred pounds stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans, he could no more have gotten himself to a store than he could have sprouted wings and flown.

It started raining again, a pale drizzle that was swept intermittently into the narrow alcove by gusting winds. He was so drained and exhausted that it didn't even make his skin prickle.

There was no telling how long he stayed there, huddled against the cold and the rain. His aches only grew worse with time, and he drifted in and out of consciousness like a radio with a bad signal.

At some point, someone opened the door.

Rythian managed to raise his head, bleary-eyed and muzzy-headed. He saw Nano clap a hand over her mouth; he couldn't make out her expression.

"Oh, my God!" she cried. She reached down and took his arms in both hands, helping him to his feet, tugging him inside. "What's _happened_ to you?"

"'S fine," he mumbled, swaying where he stood. Someone had nailed his vertebrae together while he wasn't looking.

"Christ," Nano said. "Come on, sit down, you look horrendous."

"'M fine," Rythian protested weakly, as she guided him to a carpeted living room, complete with coffee table, wall-mounted television, a white sofa and matching armchairs. She set him on the sofa and took his face in her hands.

"Rythian," she said. "Hey, look at me. What's wrong?"

"'S fine," he said again. "Be okay soon." He reached up and patted her wrist, then slowly keeled over onto the sofa. He really was _incredibly_ tired.

"Rythian," Nano said again, her voice laden with suspicion. "Are you . . . _on_ something?"

He shook his head, eyes drifting closed. The sofa was plush and soft, enveloping him. The air was warm, and his clothes were already starting to dry out.

"You're _sure_ you're all right?" she asked.

"Tired," he mumbled. "So so tired." He shivered and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Nano was quiet for a time, and then she said, "I'm going to make you a cup of tea, Rythian. Real, hot tea. If I do that, will you drink it, d'you think?"

"Mm," said Rythian, nodding. Her voice sounded muffled and far away, and he was having trouble focusing on her words.

She patted his shoulder awkwardly with both hands, said something about _right back,_ and left.

He passed out shortly thereafter.

* * *

 

". . . isn't dead," Lalna was saying.

Rythian lay still while his brain started back up. He could smell bergamot, even through the respirator, and someone had put a blanket on him.

"You're _sure?"_ Nano asked.

"The respirator is still making noise," Lalna said. "He must still be breathing."

"You don't _know_ that, though," she replied. "Maybe it's automated."

"I can also detect a heartbeat," they added.

"Oh," she said. "I didn't know you could do that. Why didn't you _say_ so?"

Rythian pried his eyes open, then blinked several times as the world pulled into focus. He saw Lalna sitting on the floor across from him, their impassive face and goggle-eyes pointed right at him. His stomach turned a flip. Lalna gestured to him.

"See?" they said. "He's conscious now."

A black-and-tan blur descended into Rythian's field of view, blocking Lalna from sight. After a moment, it resolved into Nano's face, with her mottled skin and one milky eye. He could make out her expression now—she was scowling.

"Oy," she said. "Are you dead?"

Slowly, every movement stiff, Rythian sat up. His head spun, and he pressed the heel of one hand to his temple.

"I wish," he mumbled. "'S there . . . tea?"

A white, steaming cup was thrust under his nose. He jerked back, alarmed. After a few seconds, he reached up and accepted the cup from Nano. He peeled his respirator off and took a sip of the tea. It came just shy of burning his tongue, but it was heavily sweetened and had cream in it, and he kept sipping it, even though the steam rising off it was threatening to make his sinuses start arcing. The only reason it didn't, in fact, was because he was running so cool.

Nano sat down next to him on the couch and folded her hands in her lap. She watched him while he drank his tea, as did Lalna.

At least, Rythian _assumed_ the robot was watching him. Their eyes were a deep blue, bordering on purple, and they were holding perfectly still, their head tipped just slightly to the side. Rythian tried not to look at them, but his eyes kept being drawn back, as though trapped in a magnetic field.

When he finished the tea, he fumbled his respirator back on and then wrapped both hands around the warm mug. Some of the stiffness had gone from his limbs, and his internal dynamo was, ever so slowly, spinning back up again.

"All right?" Nano asked him. "D'you want something to eat? You still look a bit peaky."

He nodded. "Food would be . . . nice."

Lalna stood swiftly, their eyes shifting from dark blue to something nearer to teal.

"I'll get it," they said. "What would you like?"

"Anything," said Rythian.

"Get him one of those applesauces," Nano told Lalna. "And a spoon."

"Okay," said Lalna, and headed off for the kitchen.

"You've got to specify about the spoons," Nano confided in Rythian. "They still haven't quite mastered extrapolation of silverware."

Rythian snorted.

"Where've you been, anyway?" Nano asked. "You just sort of . . . vanished."

Rythian shrugged. "Around," he answered.

"So then why've you come back?" she inquired pointedly.

"I . . . might have thought I was dying," he mumbled.

Nano was about to reply, but just then Lalna came back. They handed a plastic cup of applesauce and a plastic spoon to Nano, who in turn gave them to Rythian. He took his respirator off again, setting it on his knee, and forced down the first bite, and then the second.

After that it was easier, as his stomach started to unshrivel, and after he'd made it through the cup of applesauce, Lalna brought him some crackers, and he ate those too, until his lungs started sparking and he had to put the mask back on. He sat there breathing for a while, his body learning to live again.

"Better?" Nano asked him.

He nodded. "Getting there. Um. Thank you."

She shrugged. "It was Lalna who noticed you. I thought you weren't coming back. They kept checking."

"Oh," said Rythian. He glanced at Lalna and cleared his throat. "Um. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," said Lalna. "I'm glad you're getting better."

"Are—are you? Well. Good. Thanks." He cleared his throat again and scratched the back of his head. "I should . . . probably be going, anyway."

"Now?" Nano cried. "It's the middle of the night!"

"Yes, well, all the more reason—I mean, you probably have sleep schedules that I'm ruining—"

"I only utilize my sleep cycle when power conservation is prioritized," Lalna said.

"They only get tired if they've been doing too much," Nano translated.

"I—well, still I—I can't really pay you—" he lied.

"Oh, bah," Nano scoffed, waving a hand. "You haven't got to pay us. You were half dead. It's our duty as good samaritans to take you in for the night."

"You can stay here until your housing application clears," Lalna said. "It shouldn't be much longer. It only takes two weeks on average."

Out of the corner of his eye, Rythian saw Nano press her palm to her forehead, wincing. He noticed that his hands had clenched on his knees, and he forced himself to relax.

"Thank you," he said, keeping his tone neutral.

Lalna's eyes got greener. "It's my pleasure," they said again.

"Lal," Nano said, her voice strained. "We weren't going to talk about that."

"He said thank you," Lalna pointed out.

"I know his face is a _bit_ harder to read than most people's, but please have a look and tell me if you think he looks at all pleased."

Lalna paused. Slowly, their eyes turned back to purple.

"Oh," they said. "I wasn't paying adequate attention."

Something took Rythian's heart in a firm grasp and twisted it. He shrugged, looking away from Lalna.

"Well. It's not as though I _have_ to live there," he said. "I could always leave."

Lalna's eyes got even _more_ purple.

"Yes," they said, their voice heavy with disappointment. "That is an accurate statement."

Rythian ran a hand back through his hair, casting about for inspiration. Nano was giving him an odd look, her arms folded, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," she said slowly. "Please, do go on."

Rythian frowned at her, but then turned his attention back to Lalna.

"Look, I could—I could stay the night, at least," he said. "Here. If that's . . . all right."

Lalna's eyes turned bright green. "Yes!" they said emphatically. "You could do that! That's all right!"

"All right, tiger, ease off there," Nano said, getting to her feet. She yawned. "Look. I've got work in the morning, so if you're not dying anymore, I think I'll be going to bed. You can stay on the couch, for now. Lalna can show you where the spare blankets are, if you like."

"Oh," said Rythian. "Okay." He glanced at Lalna, who was staring at him. He fidgeted.

"Good night, Rythian," Nano said. "G'night, Lal. Love you."

"Good night, Nano. I love you too," they answered.

Nano yawned again, pressing her knuckles to her mouth, and shuffled off.

There was a lull so quiet that Rythian could hear the hum of Lalna's internal systems. He scratched his head and fidgeted some more.

"Are you just . . . going to sit there all night?" he asked eventually.

"I was intending to," they said.

"Is there any way you could . . . not? Sit there watching me? Maybe?"

Their head tipped to the side. "There is," they said. "Why do you ask?"

Rythian put his face in his hands and breathed deeply.

"I would like you to please not watch me while I'm sleeping," he said.

"Ah," said Lalna, their eyes getting bluer. "I understand. Nano also dislikes it when I'm in the same room with her while she's in sleep mode."

"I'd think that would be pretty common," Rythian said faintly.

"So far I only have two data points," Lalna said. "I'm reluctant to extrapolate. But I'll find somewhere else to spend the night."

"It's nothing personal," Rythian assured them.

"I didn't assume it was," they said. Their head tipped over again. "Should I have?"

"N-no," said Rythian. The robot was still, _still_ staring at him, and it was making his skin heat up. "Just . . . a lot of other people do."

Lalna's eyes turned green again. "Yes," they said. _"Other_ people."

"Right," said Rythian, confused.

Lalna got to their feet, again too swift, again too fluid. Rythian twitched where he sat, but managed to keep from actually flinching. Lalna paused, turning their head slightly, and their eyes drifted all the way down the blue spectrum and into purple.

"Did I startle you?" they asked quietly.

"No," Rythian assured them, and then recalled Nano's warning about _miscalibration._ "W-well. A little. It's fine, really. Don't worry."

Lalna paused, then nodded. "Okay," they said. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"It's . . . fine," said Rythian. "I . . . forgive you?"

Again, their eyes turned green. Rythian promised himself he would ask Nano what the colors meant first thing in the morning.

"Thank you," said Lalna. "I'm going to leave now so that you can sleep."

"Oh. Okay."

"Good night, Rythian," said Lalna. "I love you."

Rythian jerked back like he'd had a bucket of cold water thrown in his face.

"Wh . . . what?" he sputtered.

"It's your turn," Lalna prompted, gesturing an invitation to him.

"I—oh," said Rythian. His skin was boiling hot. He tugged at his scarf, licking his lips. "Well. Um. Good—good night, Lalna."

Lalna's eyes started to change color, and Rythian hurriedly added, _"Loveyoutoo."_

Again, the android paused, and then their eyes turned a pale and rosy pink. They turned without a word and walked off, swinging their arms like a school child.

Rythian stared after them, blinking, until the sound of their footsteps faded. He keeled forward, propping his forehead on his hands, and shook his head.

"What just happened?" he asked himself.

When himself didn't answer, he grumbled a mild curse or two and settled down to sleep.

* * *

 

At eleven forty-five a.m., Rythian was waiting out back of a restaurant, standing half-concealed behind the bins. He had his hands stuffed into a convenient pair of pockets and was rocking back and forth between his heels and his toes, his eyes darting. He'd waited until Lalna and Nano had both been preoccupied with their work and slipped out the front door. He'd been standing here since ten thirty, and although the sun was warm on his back, he was still sniffling with the cold.

The back door of the restaurant opened suddenly, kicked with a fair amount of force. It waggled on its uneven hinges, and the dish boy came staggering out, lugging a huge bag of food waste.

The dish boy—who as far as Rythian knew might not have even _had_ a real name—was young, and clumsy, and wore a perpetually miserable expression. Rythian had never once seen him smile, nor any evidence that he even knew how to. His hands were always wrinkled from the dish water, and there was always some kind of gunk under his fingernails. He worked most days, sometimes double shifts, and to Rythian's knowledge had never taken a mid-shift break even for a simple breath of fresh air—Rythian knew this because he often waited outside, two or three days a week, for the dish boy to come out with his huge bag of only slightly spoiled food.

He was, Rythian had decided, probably one of the unhappiest people in the world.

Dish Boy hauled his trash bag to the bin and then stopped, noticing Rythian for the first time. His eyes went wide, and he froze for a moment. A strand of dark hair had escaped his backwards baseball cap and fallen across his face.

"Hi," Rythian said, raising a hand. "Just me."

Dish Boy said nothing, as usual, but did give him a careful nod. He wiped the hair off his forehead with his wrist. Rythian opened the bin for him, and Dish Boy heaved the trash bag inside. He winced, and his shoulders tightened.

"Are you all right?" Rythian asked, concerned.

He made a dismissive gesture with his head and shoulders, keeping his eyes lowered. Rythian let the bin fall closed.

"Long shift," Rythian commented.

Dish Boy nodded again and adjusted his stained apron. He glanced at Rythian, frowned, then held up one finger in a _wait_ gesture.

"Okay," said Rythian. Dish Boy hurried off back inside, holding himself stiffly.

Rythian folded his arms and sighed, eyeing the bin. He had just lifted up the lid to investigate the contents when Dish Boy came back out. He was carrying a styrofoam take-out box, and presented it to Rythian with a shrug.

The words _DISHER SHIFT_ were scrawled on the box in sharpie.

"You don't have to—" Rythian began.

Dish Boy prodded him in the chest with the take-out box. Rythian sighed and accepted it from him. It was gloriously heavy. Rythian lifted the lid and peeked inside. The box was full of macaroni and cheese, warm and buttery and covered in bread crumbs. He looked back to Dish Boy and treated him to the best smile he could find.

"You remembered," he said.

Dish Boy shrugged again, wiping his hands on his apron.

Rythian frowned, chewed his lip, and came to a decision.

"Do you get tips?" he asked. "From front of house. Do you get part of the tips?"

Dish Boy lifted his shoulders and let them drop, then shook his head. He blew the errant strand of hair out of his face.

"Today you do," Rythian declared. He set the take-out box on the bin and fished around in his pocket until he found the roll of bills that Tom had given him. He counted out eighty pounds and offered them to Dish Boy.

He stared at them as though Rythian was holding a handful of live scorpions.

"I promise it's not drug money," Rythian said, carefully neglecting to mention what kind of money it _was._ Dish Boy continued to stare.

Rythian flapped the handful of bills at him. _"Take it,"_ he said. "You're the only person on this side of _town_ who doesn't chase me off with a broom. Take it."

Dish Boy's eyes flicked up to him, and he shook his head quickly.

"Yes you can," Rythian assured him. _"Take it._ Buy yourself something nice. Please. Something that makes you happy, Christ's sake, you deserve it."

He hesitated a moment longer, glanced over his shoulder, and then took the bills from Rythian with both shaking, dirty hands. He folded the bills up and stuffed them into the pocket of his jeans, then pushed the hair out of his face with his wrist again. Rythian picked up the box of macaroni and cheese and turned to go.

"'Nks," Dish Boy said, his voice a bare, mousey squeak.

Rythian held very still, feeling like he'd just been kissed by a wild deer.

"My pleasure," he said quietly.

Trainers scuffed on asphalt, and hinges squealed, and the door slammed shut, juddering in its frame.

Rythian looked back. Dish Boy had gone. He sighed, and shook his head, and wandered off, picking noodles out of the box with his fingers and tucking them under his respirator to his lips.

* * *

 

"Dish Boy _talked_ to me," Rythian said excitedly, sitting down across from Nano at the dining room table. She jumped, then pressed a hand to her heart, setting down her tablet.

"Good grief, how long've _you_ been back?" she demanded.

He waved a hand. "Just got back, it doesn't matter. Dish Boy _talked to me."_

She put her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. "And who is Dish Boy?"

"He's—well, okay, you know that little vegetarian restaurant on the west side—"

"The filthy, grimy, falling-into-disrepair one?" she asked dryly.

He nodded emphatically. "Yes! He works in the dish pit."

"Poor sod. Hence the name, I suppose."

"Yes, exactly! He doesn't even run me off unless his manager's looking."

"How lovely."

"You wouldn't understand," he said. "But Nano, he _talked_ to me!"

"You don't have many friends, do you," she intoned.

"No, no, see—Dish Boy doesn't talk. I've been going there for nearly a year, he's _never_ said a word, not one word in a whole year, and today he said _thanks!_ Almost the entire word!"

She looked at him for a little longer than was strictly necessary, then gave him a faint smile. "I'm very happy for you," she said, more warmly.

"I mean, it's probably just because I gave him eighty pounds, but—"

"You did _what_ now?"

Rythian pulled up short, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Well, it's not . . . I mean it wasn't _for_ anything, just a sort of a gesture of—of—of appreciation—"

"Where did you get eighty pounds from?" she demanded, folding her arms.

He waved his hands. "Things, stuff, it's not important. Look—"

"Are you selling drugs? Because I'll not have you getting me arrested."

_"No,_ I've told you, it's not important—"

"Because if _I_ get arrested, they take Lalna and put them with someone else. _And_ I lose my job, not to mention."

Rythian hesitated.

"What do you mean, they _take_ Lalna?" he asked.

"I mean Xephos takes them out of my custody and gives them to someone _else_ to be socialized," she answered. "So _if_ you're selling drugs, you won't be doing it here, d'you understand me?"

_"I'm not selling drugs,"_ he growled, teeth clenched.

"Then where have you got eighty pounds from? I can't imagine you've got a _job,_ otherwise you wouldn't be hanging about behind restaurants meeting dish boys."

Rythian fidgeted. "It's really not important," he said, excitability twisting into nervousness.

"Is it _illegal?"_ she probed.

"Well—well technically—"

"Rythian," she warned.

"I . . . _sellmyvoltage,"_ he mumbled, stringing all the words together in the hopes that she would somehow mishear it as something less perverse.

"You _sell,"_ she said. "Your _voltage."_

He shrugged, doing his best impression of Dish Boy's silent, noncommittal misery.

"Isn't that like . . . _prostitution?"_

_"What?"_ he cried, unable to believe his ears.

"I mean. Selling your body?"

_"No_ it's not like—like _prostitution,_ Christ! I—I have certain useful attributes, and . . . and my—my—my customers, they . . . pay to use them for a while!"

"That sounds an _awful_ lot like prostitution," Nano told him earnestly.

"Have _you_ ever met any prostitutes?" he demanded.

"Well _now_ I have," she said, grinning fiendishly.

"You're a fucking asshole," he spat at her, sparks climbing his hair, "you know that?"

She raised her hands and bowed her head, fighting down a smile.

"I'm sorry," she said. "If it really upsets you, I'll stop."

"It does," he stated.

"All right. I'm sorry I called you a prostitute."

He folded his arms and sat back, petulant. "Fine," he muttered. "Apology accepted. I guess. But it's not a _joke._ It's a dangerous and completely thankless job."

She frowned. "What, prostitution? _Really?"_

"Spend a few nights on the street," Rythian told her grimly, "and you'll see."

Nano shifted uncomfortably, then said again, "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you apologize to," he said. "But thank you."

She was quiet for a time, pretending to read her tablet.

"Rythian," she said.

"Hm?"

"Who _buys voltage?"_

 


	5. Chapter 4

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"I've got a meeting with the Director," Nano told Lalna, tying back her hair.

"When?" they asked.

"In about twenty minutes, actually."

"You'll be late," Lalna pointed out. They regarded her carefully, calculating several different probabilities.

"Well, that's just the way it goes, isn't it," she said. There were distinctive markers of bitterness in her tone.

"You don't want to go," Lalna concluded.

"I don't want to leave you here alone with Rythian," she said, folding her arms and regarding Lalna seriously.

"I won't hurt him," they promised.

"That's not—Lalna, I'm worried _he'll_ hurt _you._ Or he'll . . . run off, or something, or—I don't _know,_ I'm just not comfortable with it."

"I'm sorry," said Lalna. "Is there something I should do to minimize the risk?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know. I don't think so. It's not as though you can stop him from running off if he wants to."

"That is not an accurate statement," they told her earnestly.

_"Don't_ stop him from leaving if he wants to," she said, wagging a finger at them.

"Okay," said Lalna. One of their processes requested a disappointment routine, and they let it run.

"Oh, Lal," Nano sighed, shaking her head. "Look, I've got to get going, but I'll be back as soon as I can. Why don't you just . . . _talk_ to Rythian for a bit, okay? He probably won't do anything, er, _unfortunate,_ if you're talking to him."

Lalna considered this for a time, running a few thousand possible scenarios.

"I don't know what to say," they replied.

"You'll think of something," she promised. "Worse comes to worst, just ask him about himself. Most people like talking about themselves."

"Okay," they said, and gave her a thumbs-up.

She leaned over and kissed the top of their head.

"You'll do fine, Lal," she said. "I'll be back around six-thirty, unless the meeting goes long. Which it probably will. So plan on seven."

"I'll start dinner at six," Lalna told her.

"You're a blessing," she said. "And please, _please_ don't try gnocchi again without me. Okay?"

"Okay," said Lalna.

"Thanks. Right then, I'm off. Take care!"

"You, too," said Lalna.

Nano adjusted her shirt, sighed, and left.

Lalna sat at the table for eight minutes and fifteen seconds, thinking about what to say to Rythian. He was, they knew, currently in the living room, watching TV and intermittently running sleep-cycles, which seemed somewhat nonsensical, but Lalna had learned that it was best not to question human operations too closely.

Generally because the explanations made no sense, either, but also because the humans tended to grow annoyed after only a few dozen questions.

When they had decided on an appropriate conversational path, they moved into the living room and sat down on the floor next to the coffee table. Rythian was in a sleep cycle, his hands folded under his cheek, and so Lalna waited.

To keep from getting bored, they calculated the cost, temporal and capital, of rounding up and cataloguing the entire Powered population of India. They included several resistance scenarios, just to spice things up a little. It was still a facile exercise, since most of the necessary functions were hard-wired into them.

When they had finished, Rythian was still in his sleep cycle, and had not so much as stirred. He was snoring quietly—if Lalna had not had such well-optimized audio sensors, they likely wouldn't have been able to hear it under the sound of the respirator. They could detect his heartbeat, as well, inferring it remotely from advanced skin topography scans that could pick up the pulsing of his arteries. It was steady, if perhaps slightly elevated from what Lalna would have considered a sleep-cycle norm for humans. His eyes were not moving beneath their lids, indicating that he was not in the deepest process of the cycle, and it would not be particularly detrimental to wake him.

Lalna picked a sound just at the edge of human hearing, a pure fifteen kilohertz tone, and played it at high volume.

As they watched, Rythian's eyebrows drew together, his ears twitched, and then his eyes fluttered open. Lalna stopped playing the noise on the instant, and raised a hand in greeting.

"Hi," they said to Rythian.

Rythian blinked, his eyes flicking over Lalna's face as his body tensed and his heart rate accelerated.

"How long have you been there?" he asked, his voice thin.

"Nine minutes and forty-six seconds," Lalna answered promptly. "You were asleep."

"I . . . I _did_ ask you to . . . not watch me while I sleep," Rythian said, frowning. "Didn't I?"

"I wasn't watching you," Lalna said, which was technically true; they had been _observing_ him, and that was different. Just for the sake of honesty, they added, "I was doing other things while I waited for you to wake up."

"Oh," said Rythian. "I . . . see. Um. I'm awake now."

"That's an accurate assessment," Lalna said, allowing a low-level amusement routine to run.

Rythian's eyes narrowed, and he sat up, stretching.

"Did you need something?" he asked.

"I was told talking to you would be appropriate."

"Were you. About what?"

Lalna ran a casual uncertainty routine, which raised their shoulders and then dropped them again.

"I've considered several topics," they said. "I believe it's best if I ask what _you_ want to talk about."

Rythian looked at them for a long time, studying their face. Lalna's interpersonal software requested an embarrassment routine, which they discarded.

"No," Rythian said at last. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Running a puzzlement routine, Lalna asked, "Why?"

Rythian looked away, turning his head. "Because I'm a guest in your house, and I'd like to stay one."

Lalna spent a few seconds parsing the convoluted connotations of this sentence.

"You think I'll kick you out," they concluded.

"Yes," said Rythian.

"I won't kick you out," Lalna assured him.

"You might _arrest_ me," Rythian replied, his teeth clenched under the respirator.

"Why?" Lalna asked again. Rythian shot a glare at him.

"Will you just accept that I don't want to talk about this and leave me alone?" he said sharply.

The interpersonal software tossed up six requests for disappointment within one second, so Lalna let it run, hanging their head.

"Okay," they said. "I won't ask again."

Rythian sighed.

"Sorry," he said, begrudgingly. "I . . . didn't mean to snap."

Lalna made a quick search for the proper reply—the one that Rythian himself had used last time Lalna had apologized to him.

"I forgive you," Lalna said.

Rythian was quiet for thirty seconds, and Lalna decided that it was appropriate to begin a different conversational path. The first one had _certainly_ not gone as predicted, but that was not necessarily a major setback.

"I understand that your Power has made it difficult to maintain cleanliness standards," they said.

Rythian stiffened, his eyes narrowing as his eyebrows pulled together.

"Excuse me?" he said quietly.

"You mentioned it to Nano," Lalna went on, although the interpersonal software had requested another embarrassment routine and attempted to override their speech processor.

"And?" Rythian said.

"I've been thinking about it," Lalna said. "I think I've found an appropriate solution."

Rythian folded his arms and sat back, regarding Lalna with clear marks of annoyance on his visible features. He raised an eyebrow. Lalna gave him appropriate space to speak, and when he didn't, continued with their proposal.

"There are large polypropylene tanks in the hydrodynamics lab," they said. The interpersonal software was still attempting to override their speech processor, so they put it on a six second cool-down.

"Like fish-tanks?" Rythian asked.

"No," said Lalna. "Generally we use them to store deionized water, but I could manually access one of them to allow entry. There's one three-hundred liter tank that could be used as a bathtub analogue."

Rythian blinked twice, his expression only changing minutely, and likely involuntarily. He swallowed.

"Wouldn't that get your . . . _tank_ dirty?" he asked, his voice restrained.

"Yes," said Lalna. "But I've cleaned the tanks out to the appropriate standard before, and it's an acceptable amount of effort."

Rythian moved his head back slightly, and his eyebrows lifted by a few millimeters.

"Oh," he said. "Well."

"We also have a machine for washing clothes," Lalna added.

Slowly, the capillaries in Rythian's face dilated, causing more blood to occupy the sub-dermal layer and raising the surface temperature of his skin. It also imbued his face with a lovely pink hue.

"I . . . see," he said.

Lalna was struck with the idea—outmoded and proven incorrect—that there was something wrong with Rythian's vocal processor. They corrected the data again and moved on.

"I would be happy to help with the process," they offered.

Quite suddenly, Rythian put both hands over his face. Lalna found it particularly distressing when humans did this—fully half of Lalna's emotional identification capability relied on expression. It was as though the humans were _purposefully_ hiding how they felt, which was unfair.

"If you could just show me the tank," Rythian said. There was certainly something wrong with his voice, or the structures that produced it. "And maybe where you keep the soap and towels."

"Okay," said Lalna. Then, since Rythian was still so unfairly covering his face, they asked hopefully, "Are you pleased with this?"

"Tell me the water's hot," Rythian said, "and I will be _delighted."_

The interpersonal software had come off of its cool-down, and reorganized Lalna's computing priority list to direct all non-vital resources to finding a method to heat the tank water. This caused a massive power drain that cut the signal to their emotional indicator screens, along with most everything else. It was probably a good thing that Rythian wasn't looking, otherwise it might have startled him.

One second and sixteen million calculations later, the interpersonal software allowed Lalna's system to return to normal function.

"The full volume of the tank can be heated to forty-five degrees centigrade by application of five low-power laser shots," they reported. System protocol required them to add, "Although this is not the proper application of the MALaR instrument."

Slowly, Rythian raised his head, letting his hands fall away from his face. Lalna was relieved to see that his expression showed distinctive markers of appreciation.

"Dare I ask," he said, "what a _maylar_ is?"

"The Manually Aimed Laser Rifle instrument," Lalna explained. "It consists of a paired set of—"

_"Laser rifle?"_ Rythian cried, his expression changed to one of shock.

The interpersonal software tried to shut down Lalna's vocal processor again. Lalna decided that perhaps the software had a point.

"This isn't a good thing to talk about," they said.

"You have a _laser rifle?"_ Rythian demanded. Amidst the shock was, Lalna thought, some fear.

"Two," said Lalna, "but I don't want to talk about them anymore."

"You—but—I—" Rythian said. He put his face back in his hands and took a deep breath.

"You're upset," Lalna observed.

"I guess it . . . makes _sense,"_ Rythian muttered. "I don't know what I expected. _Laser rifles._ Christ."

Lalna said nothing. Eventually, Rythian sighed and straightened up again.

"You might as well show me where this _tank_ is," he said.

"Okay," said Lalna, getting to their feet. They did so at quarter-speed, since half-speed had startled Rythian last time. Rythian stood as well, keeping his eyes on Lalna.

"Um," said Rythian, and rubbed his arm. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure," they told him.

They showed him to the main floor bathroom, where Nano kept her personal cleaning supplies, and let Rythian pick out the ones he liked. They gathered up a few towels and then took him down to the hydrodynamics lab, which was downstairs and at the back of a long hallway.

"So," Rythian said, as Lalna pinged the door to open it. "Why do you have a giant lab in your basement?"

"It was provided by YogLabs," Lalna answered, leading him into the hydrodynamics lab. They picked out the appropriate tank and set down the towels next to it. They reached over the top of the tank and opened the hatch.

"Of course," said Rythian. "But . . . why not just a house and then a lab somewhere else?"

"I'm not to go outside unless I'm on field operations or training exercises," Lalna told him. "Since Nano is my caretaker, Xephos thought it would make the most sense to combine her living space and her lab space into one, so that I could help with her science. I'm not technically supposed to be more than a hundred meters from her at any given time, but exceptions were granted so that she could go to Division meetings without me."

"Oh," said Rythian. "That . . . makes sense?"

Lalna stuck their hand into the airspace at the top of the tank, primed the right MALaR instrument, and hesitated. They turned their head towards Rythian to ensure he was paying attention.

"Please don't tell anyone I did this," they said.

Rythian raised his eyebrows, then nodded. "I won't say a word," he said.

"Thank you," said Lalna.

They fired into the tank, one shot per second, spreading the shots evenly around the tank to prevent localized boiling. By the end, they had transferred five kilowatts of power into the water, and it was steaming nicely.

Lalna stepped back, assessing total power drain. It was a tenth of what they would have used on a pair of full-power shots—the _Both Barrels Routine,_ as Xephos had named it. They deemed it acceptable and saved the data.

"Okay," said Lalna.

Rythian was staring at them again. They ran a puzzlement routine.

"What?" they asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just climb in, do I?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "If you would like, I can take your clothes to the washing machine."

Rythian flushed again. "Um. Well. I—I mean if it's not going to take too long—"

"It won't," said Lalna.

Rythian stood there and fidgeted for a second.

"Do you mind leaving while I—" he began.

Lalna constructed the necessary sequence of events for human cleaning and extrapolated them to Rythian. The interpersonal software slipped in a request for an embarrassment routine before Lalna could stop it.

"No," they said quickly. "I'll go outside and come back in three minutes. Will that be sufficient?"

"Um. Sure, yeah," said Rythian.

Lalna left. They waited outside the door for three minutes exactly, then came back in.

Rythian's clothes were in a pile next to the tank. Lalna could detect Rythian's heat signature inside the tank, a slightly cooler splotch amongst the spurious data from the hot water.

They collected the discarded clothing without saying anything and then left again. The whole mess went into the washing machine, and Lalna returned to their work station to attempt to get some science done in the hour and a half before they were due to start on dinner.

Eventually they had to put the interpersonal software on a cool-down again, because it would not stop thinking about Rythian not having any clothes on.

* * *

 

After twenty-seven minutes, the washing machine completed its cycle, and Lalna transferred Rythian's clothes to the dryer. They made a note to change the washing machine's filters at the next earliest convenience.

Distantly, they heard the lab door open. They decided quickly that their current science could wait, and headed straight for the lab door, already preparing a set of acceptable remarks.

"I heard the door," said Lalna, coming around the corner. "I assume you're looking for—"

Rythian froze, standing in the doorway with one hand still in his hair. He was wearing nothing but a towel, tied around his waist, and the respirator. There were marks of damage repair all over him, from his eyebrows to his ankles, pale scar tissue against the darker skin. His right arm was mottled with burst capillaries, tracing a fractal pattern from the tip of his index finger all the way to his shoulder. He was underweight, and Lalna could see his ribs pressing against his skin as he breathed. There was a fuzzy line of hair trailing from his bellybutton to the towel. He stood there with his eyes wide and his heart rate elevated, and his entire skin surface heated up half a degree as he blushed.

The interpersonal software began requesting half a billion embarrassment routines per second, effectively shutting Lalna down until they complied, three seconds later.

"Oh," they said, turning away. They could still see him through their rear-facing cameras, but it alleviated some of the pressure from the interpersonal software. It was now only requesting two million embarrassment routines per second, which was, Lalna thought, entirely excessive, since the minimum duration of the full routine was six seconds. They continued acquiescing as much as they could, because it kept the volume of requests down.

"Um," said Rythian, his voice half an octave higher than usual. "Um, I just—I was just—um—could you maybe tell me where my clothes are?"

"They are in the dryer," Lalna said. The continued pressure of the interpersonal software was making normal speech difficult.

"Oh. Yes. Of course. Um. There wouldn't—you wouldn't happen to have—um, just out of curiosity—something I could, um. Wear?"

"Ah!" said Lalna, managing to think through the yammering software long enough to find an actual solution. "Yes! I have clothes that I'm not using! I think they will be sufficient!"

"Thank—" Rythian began, but Lalna was already on the way to their room, unable to stand not being able to think properly. As soon as they were out of sight of Rythian, the interpersonal software settled down and freed up some processing power.

They attempted to contact Nano, intending to open with the plea: _he is very cute and I don't know what to do,_ but she had her communicator disabled, as was standard for Division meetings.

Lalna accepted that there was no backup to be had, and began working it out for themselves.

They picked out a set of clothes—jeans and a t-shirt and one of their spare lab coats—and brought them back to Rythian. Instead of putting up with the interpersonal software's shenanigans again, they just put the clothes on the floor and nudged them around the corner with their toe. Rythian picked them up and moved away, and Lalna listened closely for when the rustling of cloth ceased.

"Okay," Rythian said. "I'm, um, dressed."

Lalna came around the corner. The interpersonal software started going at it again, and Lalna hurriedly put it on a six second cool-down before it could shut down their systems again.

Rythian was too small for Lalna's clothes, and a few inches too short. He was sitting on the floor, rolling up the legs of the jeans so they wouldn't drag the ground. A few strands of his hair had fallen into his face, and errant sparks were skittering between them.

"You look very cute," Lalna told him.

Rythian stopped what he was doing and blinked twice. The moment the interpersonal software came off of cool-down, it tried to shut down Lalna's vocal processor again.

"Thanks," Rythian said slowly. He finished rolling up the legs of the jeans and turned to the sleeves of the lab coat, which currently reached the tips of his thumbs.

"Was that inappropriate?" Lalna asked, concerned. They searched their memory for the old Sexual Harassment policies they had been provided with soon after startup. Although Rythian wasn't technically a co-worker, they were willing to accept any help they could get.

"Um," said Rythian, "no, I don't think so. Listen, when do you think my clothes will be done? Because I . . . was thinking of going out tonight, and I don't really want to go dressed like _this._ Not—I mean not that there's anything wrong with the way you dress—"

"There are fifteen minutes left in the current cycle," Lalna reported. "Where are you thinking of going?"

Rythian shrugged. "Just—out. Just _out._ I've been in here for a week and it's driving me nuts."

Lalna ran a puzzlement routine. "You _seem_ mentally and emotionally stable," they said.

Rolling his eyes, Rythian explained, "I'm _bored,_ Lalna. I'm bored out of my skull. Usually I have _something_ to do, even if it's just . . . you know, forage. And Nano said no drugs in the house, so now I _have_ to go somewhere else."

Lalna did not respond. Rythian watched their face for several seconds, his eyebrows raised. He sighed and shook his head, looking away.

"That was a joke," he said. "All my spare income goes to repairing _this_ fucking thing." He tapped the respirator.

"Does it require frequent repairs?" Lalna asked.

"Every fucking _month,"_ Rythian grumbled. "Like fucking clockwork. Not to mention I have to keep replacing the filters."

"It isn't well-made," they concluded.

"Hah! No. A . . . friend of mine threw it together over a weekend from things she had lying around in her closet."

"I'm sure the Division could provide you with a better model," Lalna said. "Twenty percent of the budget is allocated to meeting the disability needs of their employees."

Rythian's face now showed markers of anger, and his fists had clenched. He got to his feet, not looking at Lalna.

"I don't want _anything_ from the Division," he said quietly.

Lalna considered this sentence, its implications, and the tone of Rythian's voice.

"I'm sorry I mentioned it," they said.

Rythian shook his head. "I'll be in the living room. Let me know when my clothes are done."

"Okay," said Lalna.

Saying nothing more, Rythian walked away, his posture tense. Lalna watched him go.

The interpersonal software put in a friendly request for Lalna to shut themselves down permanently.

* * *

 

Lalna edged into the living room, trying not to look at Rythian.

"Your laundry is done," they mentioned.

Rythian got up from the sofa and stretched.

"Where?" he asked.

"I can show you."

Rythian made a sweeping gesture, which Lalna took to be an invitation to proceed. They turned and went to the laundry room, keeping their attention on their rear cameras, watching Rythian follow with his hands in the pockets of his borrowed jeans.

Lalna opened the door and stepped aside. "In there," they said. "I will be starting on dinner in three minutes, so if you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."

Rythian looked at them askance. "Dinner for who?" he asked.

"You and Nano."

"Better make it just Nano," Rythian said. He stepped into the laundry room and closed the door. Lalna very nearly switched to thermal cameras, but decided that the interpersonal software would probably pitch an entire fit.

"You aren't hungry?" Lalna asked, raising their voice two decibels to be heard through the door.

"I'm not staying," Rythian called back.

Lalna ran a disappointment routine, even though Rythian couldn't see them.

"Why?" they asked.

"Because—well, because I don't want to be here when Nano gets back. All right? It's a human thing, you wouldn't understand."

Lalna considered for eight whole seconds, taking the interpersonal software off its cool-down and running likely scenarios until they found the best fit.

"You think her opinion of you will diminish if she knows you are spending your limited income on unnecessary things," they concluded. "You also don't want to reinforce her opinion that you're taking drugs. You don't want to confront her because it will distress you."

There was silence from inside the laundry room. Slowly, the door opened, and Rythian stuck his head out. He was mostly dressed, with the exception of his coat and his scarf, and his hair was mussed. Lalna went ahead and put the interpersonal software back on cool-down, just in case.

"How . . . did you know that?" Rythian asked slowly.

Lalna shrugged. "Part of my programming is understanding human relations. It's a work in progress, which is why I'm staying with Nano. I think I've gotten very good at it."

"Yes," Rythian said faintly. "I would say so."

Lalna ran a pride routine. "Thank you!"

Shaking his head, Rythian picked up his jacket and scarf from the floor and put them on. He stepped out of the laundry room, heading for the door, and paused. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Look," he said. "If you need me, I'll be at _Joule's._ Okay? It's a . . . a bar. It's the only one I ever go to, so—you can look it up, right?"

Lalna looked it up, marked its location, and saved it. It had a security feed that was recorded in real time to a password-protected Cloud database. Lalna saved this information as well, then nodded.

"Got it," they said. "When will you be back? I don't want to leave you on the doorstep again."

Rythian blinked. "Oh. Um. What time is it now?"

"Five fifty-nine," Lalna answered.

"Oh. Well, probably—I mean, no later than midnight. I'm sure."

"Okay," said Lalna, recording the data and setting an internal alarm. "I think it's appropriate to say _have fun._ Correct?"

"Um. Yes, that's . . . thank you," said Rythian. "Um. You—you wouldn't mind _not_ telling Nano where I . . . went. Would you?"

Lalna gave him a thumbs-up. Rythian's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows raised, and Lalna concluded that he was smiling under the respirator.

"Okay," said Lalna.

"Thank you," Rythian said.

They watched as he shuffled out the door, and then watched as he hunched his shoulders and strode off down the street.

Then they brute-forced their way into the security feed at _Joule's,_ went into the kitchen, and started on dinner.

And they watched.

 


	6. Chapter 5

_ _

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

_Joule's_ was a run-down little bar on the west side of town that had, by virtue of being very small and not in anyone's way, managed to stay open despite the fact that it only accepted Powered customers. Rythian had been turning up there long enough that he no longer had to prove himself to any of the bouncers, but many people did, and those who couldn't were politely turned away.

Inside, it was dimly lit and never crowded. The bar staff also knew Rythian on sight, and so he never had to risk electrocuting someone by trying to get through the press at the bar. He just found an empty booth and waited for someone to come ask him what he wanted.

This particular night, it was the woman with rainbow dreadlocks who turned up at his booth, tapping her glittering fingernails on the table.

"What can I getcha, luv?" she asked. Her eyes were golden, and she spoke with a London accent.

"Something expensive," he answered. "With gin."

"Had a windfall, have you? Congrats. We'll do you a maple gin flip, that sound good?"

"That sounds incredible," he said. "Thanks, Jess."

She winked at him. "Won't be a mo," she told him, and moved off. She returned five minutes later with a cocktail glass full of creamy liquid and sprinkled with cinnamon. Rythian nearly keeled over in bliss just looking at it, and the first sip, stolen from under a lifted respirator, was absolute heaven.

"You're an angel," he told Jess earnestly. "Can I have a straw?"

She fished out a couple of thin black coffee stirrers and stuck them in his drink.

"It's fifteen," she said. "Just so you know."

Rythian fished fifteen pounds from his pocket and handed it to her, not without a certain amount of reluctance. She took it, smiling.

"Glad you've had some luck, luv," she told him, pocketing the bills. "Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?"

He saluted her, and she left to attend to other customers, and Rythian sat back and got down to the serious business of enjoying himself.

A few minutes later, someone slid into the booth across from him. Rythian looked up, frowning.

The newcomer waved, somewhat awkwardly. He looked to be on the shy side of thirty, and bookishly cute, wearing a green flannel overshirt with some kind of graphic tee underneath. He wore thick-rimmed glasses, a stylized silver crown necklace, and a woven bracelet on each wrist, one in green and gray, the other purple and white. He had freckles, which Rythian thought was somewhat unfair to the rest of the world's population, who could not achieve that level of cuteness.

"Hi," the newcomer said. "Mind if I shlip in here?" His voice was lightly accented, and he had a lisp—either that, or he was quite drunk already.

"No, go ahead," Rythian said. "Just be careful not to touch me. Or at least, not with only one hand. Or foot. Two points always, if you have to."

"Noted," said the newcomer. "Can I shake your hand, though? Doeshn't really feel like a proper introduction without shaking handsh."

"Sure, why not," said Rythian.

"Zylush," said the newcomer, extending his hand over the table. Rythian took it, being sure to also touch Zylus's elbow for as long as their hands were in contact.

"Rythian," he said.

Zylus pulled a wry smile. "I should probably _not_ ashk what happensh if you don't ushe two handsh."

"You get electrocuted," Rythian told him candidly.

Zylus's eyebrows shot up. He took his glasses off, polished them on his shirt, then set them back on his nose.

"Glad I didn't ashk," he said. "Hell of a thing, ishn't it?"

"You have no idea," Rythian said, shaking his head. "What about you? How'd you get in?"

"It'sh more of a party trick than a Power, honeshtly," Zylus admitted, wrinkling his nose. "I'll demonshtrate. Think of a number between one and a million."

Rythian picked forty-five. The instant the thought had settled into his mind, Zylus called the number out. Rythian's eyes went wide and he leaned back in the booth.

"Shorry," Zylus said, smirking. "I should've ashked if that wash your final anshwer."

"That's . . . pretty impressive," Rythian admitted.

"Makesh job interviewing a breeshe," Zylus said, nodding.

"I bet it helps with dating, too," he grumbled, turning his drink between his fingers.

"Wouldn't know," Zylus said. "I don't date."

"No?" said Rythian, raising an eyebrow. "Can't imagine it's for lack of suitors."

Zylus laughed, but there was an edge of annoyance to it.

"No, not becaushe of that. No, I'm aro-ashe."

Rythian shook his head, puzzled.

"Aromantic ashexual?" Zylus prompted hopefully.

"Is that a thing?" Rythian asked.

Zylus smiled at him. "Let me show you my blog," he said, and went to dig his phone out of his pocket.

"No, really, it's fine—" Rythian hastened to tell him, sensing an oncoming lecture.

Zylus was already on his phone, though, pulling up the website. He slid the phone across the table to Rythian. The open page was styled in black, gray, purple, and green, and titled: _Just A Bit Chilly: An Aro/Ace Support Blog._ There was an introductory post, with the header, _So What Is Aro/Ace?_

It began: _No, it's not an expert archer (although you could be that, too). It stands for "Aromantic/Asexual," and it's a pair of orientations that sometimes (not always) go together._ _Aromantic_ _means you don't feel romantic attraction—you're not interested in dating people, kissing, that kind of thing._ _Asexual_ _means you don't feel sexual attraction—you don't have any strong desire to sleep with somebody, for example._

The post went on, off the bottom of the screen. Rythian picked at his fingernails.

"I . . . probably shouldn't touch your phone," he mentioned.

"Oh, right, the electrocution thing," said Zylus. "How about I buy you a drink and we'll talk about it, then? Promishe I'm not trying to shleep with you." He winked.

Rythian laughed, letting some of the tension diffuse. Zylus reached out and took his phone back.

"I never say no to free drinks," Rythian told him. "Especially with no strings attached."

"I shaid nothing about shtringsh," Zylus responded, slipping out of the booth. "You have to shtay there and lishten to me talk orientationsh."

He raised his hands. "Okay, okay, fair enough. Should I bother telling you what kind of drink I like, or—"

"Gin and tonic," Zylus said. "Funny, I would've pegged you ash a Long Island guy. Be right back, don't go anywhere."

"Do you do that all the time, or are you just trying to impress me?" Rythian asked, folding his arms.

"I jusht like showing off," he admitted, and waggled his eyebrows, and headed off towards the bar. Rythian rolled his eyes and shook his head, then set to work finishing his drink before Zylus came back with the next one.

He returned remarkably quickly, a gin and tonic in each hand. Rythian looked him up and down as he slid back into the booth and pushed one glass across.

"The mind-reading trick comes in handy when you're getting the bartender's attention, huh," he remarked.

"Not sho much," Zylus said. He pinched the two straws in his drink together and took a sip. "That'sh jusht from being cute."

Rythian laughed again. "Fair enough," he said, and went in on his own drink. "You were saying, about orientation?"

"Ah, yesh, your orientation to orientationsh." He leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting them on the table. "Where are you shtarting from?"

"Um," said Rythian. "I've heard that bisexual is a thing?"

Zylus shook his head and clicked his teeth.

"My friend," he said, "you have sho, _sho_ much to learn."

* * *

 

When Rythian finished his drink, Zylus went and got him another. The conversation barely paused, and Rythian was thoroughly engrossed.

"So this—this—this _pan_ thing," he said, waving a hand. The gin and tonic was hitting him somewhat harder than usual, which was no less than he deserved for skipping dinner.

"Yesh," said Zylus, attentive and serious.

"It's like—it's the same for, like, anybody? Or—or like, _everybody?_ Men _and_ women? Like even, like, someone who isn't either one?"

"Pretty much," he answered. "I'm not exshactly the pershon to talk about it with, but that'sh how I've had it exshplained to me."

"Okay, okay, so but—there's a—a _name_ for that? That's a thing?"

Zylus sipped his drink, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Absholutely," he said.

Rythian put a hand to his forehead and stared down at the table, reeling from the epiphany.

"It makes so much _sense,"_ he muttered.

"Now that'sh what I like to shee," Zylus said, gesturing to Rythian. "People figuring themshelvesh out. Makesh me feel like I'm contributing shomething to the world."

"I feel like you just blew my mind," Rythian said faintly. "It's a _thing?"_

"It'sh a thing," Zylus confirmed. "Do you want the resht of that drink?"

"Yes," Rythian said firmly, and found his way to the straw, and sucked down a good half of the remaining alcohol. He winced.

"Too much gin?" Zylus asked. He swirled his glass. "Mine too. It'sh why I've only had one, I have to drive."

"Something like that," said Rythian. "Hey, listen, so—what is it—what is it you do? Just like as a—as a day job?"

"I'm sure it will shurprishe you to learn I work in a game shtore," said Zylus.

"Why shouldn't that shurprishe—sorry, surprise me?" Rythian asked, peering at him.

Zylus indicated his shirt and necklace. "Legend of Zelda? Kingdom Heartsh? I'm only wearing it all over me. It'sh fine, they're pretty retro, maybe you haven't heard of them."

"I'm homeless," Rythian told him simply.

Zylus blinked a couple of times. "Oh," he said mildly. "Okay, you get a free passh then. I mean, unlessh you want to come over and play video gamesh. Becaushe I would be _incredibly_ up for that."

"If you were anybody else," Rythian said, "I would think you were trying to get in my pants."

Zylus shrugged. "Good thing I'm me, then, ishn't it. Finish your drink, I can drive ush there. Shtart you off with shome Mario or shomething, that'sh pretty shimple."

"I—I? Me? With the . . . the video gamesh—games?" Rythian asked. He was starting to see double, but he finished his drink anyway.

"Yeah, why not? Sheemsh like you could ushe a friend. And maybe shomewhere to shpend the night."

"I would . . . I would _love_ that," Rythian said. "That would be—that would be great. That would be amazing. You're amazing."

"Right?" said Zylus, waggling his eyebrows. He stretched, rolled his shoulders, then slid out of the booth. Rythian followed suit, but he had barely gotten to his feet before his knees gave up on him. Zylus caught him by his forearms, helping to steady him.

"Careful," he said, his voice lilting.

"'M okay," Rythian assured him, though his head was spinning.

"Maybe that'sh a no on the video gamesh tonight," Zylus remarked, helping Rythian towards the door. "But you can passh out on my couch if you want. My flatmatesh won't mind."

"Thanks," Rythian mumbled.

Zylus took him out of the bar, several blocks down the road to a deserted side-street. There was a blue Prius parked in the dark wedge between two street lights, and Zylus took him to it, coaxing him into the passenger's seat.

Rythian had decided, somewhere along the way, that this was a terrifically bad idea. His brain had gone numb and fuzzy, and fear was making him tremble.

"You drugged me," he slurred, while Zylus buckled him in. "You—you've . . . you _drugged_ me."

"Yesh," Zylus said, "I did." He closed Rythian's door and went around to the driver's side. He buckled up and started the engine, then glanced at Rythian, who was hyperventilating, fumbling at his seatbelt with half-formed terrors swimming through his head.

"No," Zylus told him, putting the car in gear and pulling out. "The aro-ashe thing wash true. You're jusht in a very different kind of trouble than you think. . . ."

Rythian's brain gave up, and he passed out.

* * *

 

He awoke, freezing, sore, and tied to a chair. Most of his clothes had been taken, leaving him with only a sleeveless undershirt and a pair of black leggings. His head ached fit to burst, and he could tell his internal dynamo was running hot from the way the air tickled his skin.

A gloved hand touched his face, cold and rubbery.

"Wakey wakey," Nilesy murmured.

Rythian pried his eyes open. His vision was blurred, but he could see that he was in some kind of plastic tube. There were bright fluorescent lights overhead, and a white ceiling with exposed girders. Nilesy was peering into his face, close enough that Rythian could see the color of his eyes behind the mask's shadow.

They were, he noted in slight delirium, quite a lovely green.

"Where. . . ?" Rythian croaked.

"My place," Nilesy answered. "I thought maybe you and I ought to have a little chat, hm? A little chat about rudeness."

He managed to look around. There were metal grates in the floor of the plastic tube. He could hear running water somewhere nearby. Experimentally, he jerked an arm. He was bound with rope around his chest and wrists and ankles. As if that weren't enough, there were also thin metal cuffs linking his wrists together and securing his ankles to the chair.

Nilesy clicked his teeth and took Rythian's chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "Eager to leave already? We've only just gotten started! You haven't even _thought_ about listening to what I have to say."

"I don't care what you have to say," Rythian snapped at him. "Let me go."

Nilesy winked at him. "Maybe," he said. "In a bit. Hear me out first."

"You've tied me to a chair," Rythian said.

"And bolted the chair to the floor," Nilesy added. He turned Rythian's head this way and that, examining him. "That was a good trick. Hard to keep it water-tight with the bolts in it, but Zylus figured it out. He's very clever with that sort of thing."

Rythian's heart skipped a beat. He focused his internal energies, picked a spot about two feet behind Nilesy, and channeled all of his stored voltage into the special point just above his diaphragm.

There was a gut-wrenching jerk, and something yanked his wrists and ankles so hard it nearly dislocated them, and all his voltage exploded back out through his body, crackling against his skin and stunning him.

Nilesy grinned, letting his hand slide back onto Rythian's cheek, trailing clammy fingertips along his jaw and neck.

_"Did_ you know," he said, his voice well-oiled with satisfaction, "that over eighty percent of teleportation Powers are negated by silver? Dimensional anchoring, is what they call it. Those lovely labcoated fascists at YogLabs figured it out years ago. It's so public-minded, how they've given everyone with a university library card access to their big beautiful stores of research papers. And some people think they're trying to _protect_ us, hah."

"Let me _go,"_ Rythian snarled, kicking his feet down against the floor, trying to wrench the chair loose. His head was still fuzzy, his limbs still watery from the backlash of his failed teleportation.

"Incidentally," Nilesy said, "the _other_ twenty percent tend to end up plastered all over a wall after two or three teleportations. So in some ways, you're quite lucky."

Trying to steady himself, Rythian took a few deep breaths. It would have been easier to calm down if Nilesy hadn't still been touching his face.

"Will you please stop touching me," Rythian said.

Nilesy patted his cheek and straightened up. He clasped his hands behind his back and began a slow circuit around Rythian, placing his feet as though measuring something out.

"We were talking about rudeness," he said. "Weren't we?"

"You mentioned it," Rythian allowed. He twisted one hand, trying to pull it through the ropes. He gave up in short order—they were tied so tight that, even if he'd been able to do something drastic like dislocate his thumb, he never would have been able to fit his hands through them.

"One of the rudest things I can think of," Nilesy said, coming back around to Rythian's front, "would be electrocuting someone who has just offered you a job."

"You were going to kill Lalna."

"I still am!" Nilesy said. "For a given definition of _kill._ It isn't really alive, after all."

He had come to stand with his toes almost touching Rythian's, his hands still clasped behind his back, looking down on Rythian and smirking.

"Then you can go fuck yourself," Rythian told him.

Nilesy laughed. "Yet more rudeness from Rythian! I'm really starting to wonder what it is about that robot you like so much. It's got solitaire installed, hasn't it."

"No," Rythian said coldly.

"Ooh, has it got _minesweeper?_ Tell me it's got minesweeper and I might think about keeping it round."

"If you're trying to win me over," Rythian said, gritting his teeth, "you're failing miserably."

Nilesy rocked back on his heels, casting his eyes to the heavens and sighing.

"I'll level with you, Rythian," Nilesy said. "At this point, you've got two choices. The first one—which I'd really recommend, in your position—is that you can join my merry band of villains."

Nilesy leaned in and put his gloved hands on Rythian's thighs, his eyes bright behind the mask.

"With which," he went on, "there would come a certain amount of . . . benefits."

Rythian blinked, then frowned.

"Are you—are you _hitting_ on me?" he asked, baffled.

Nilesy grinned. "Well, it wouldn't be evil if it weren't a _little_ sexy," he said.

"And if I _decline_ your offer?"

He straightened up, spreading his hands. Water bubbled from the grates in the floor. Rythian instinctively picked up his feet, but the water stopped before it reached him, leaving a dry circle around the two of them. It was the circle Nilesy had paced less than a minute ago.

"Then I drown you," Nilesy said simply, smiling.

"Do you offer all your recruits this . . . so-called _choice?"_ Rythian asked, keeping his voice gruff to hide the fear in it.

Nilesy waggled his head, pulling a face, then let his hands drop with a laugh. The water flowed back down the drains.

"No," he admitted, wrinkling his nose. "But to be perfectly honest, I was going to drown you anyway. I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Rythian stared at him, gaping. Nilesy reached out and ripped the respirator off his face. Rythian gasped, jerking forward as he tried to stay with the device.

"It's been fun, Rythian," Nilesy said, dancing away to the side of the tank. "Brief! But fun."

He stood on a grate, and a pillar of water lifted him up the side, where he stepped off onto a floor or platform of some kind. The water came back down and spread out across the floor. More began to bubble up through the grates, covering the whole floor of the tank, rising rapidly.

Rythian thrashed against his restraints, screaming through his teeth. The ropes bit at his wrists, chafed him until his skin started to peel off. His feet splashed in the water as he tried to kick his legs free, but he only managed to cut his ankles open on the restraints.

"The struggling's always my favorite part," Nilesy opined. "So helpless. So powerfully, beautifully helpless."

Panting, his hair falling into his eyes, Rythian glared up at Nilesy. The air was wet enough that sparks were starting to skitter around in his lungs already.

Nilesy smiled at him and wiggled his fingers in a childish farewell. The water at Rythian's feet began to rise. He could feel his skin shivering as his internal dynamo charged the water.

"So what?" Rythian said. "Now you leave me here to die?"

"Oh, goodness, no," said Nilesy. "Now I stand here and watch you _drown."_

Rythian jerked at the restraints again. His wrists and ankles were starting to bleed from the continued abuse.

"You won't get away with this," he snarled. The water was up to his knees, and he could hear the electricity crackling against the sides of the tank as the water rose.

"No?" said Nilesy. "Why? Someone looking for you?"

Rythian clenched his jaw. The water rose up to his thighs and he twitched, the cold needling into his flesh. He struggled to regain his breath as the water continued to rise, slowly, inexorably.

"You could have just worked with me," Nilesy mentioned. "Instead of attacking me. _And_ ruining a perfectly good suit, by the way. Those aren't cheap. Not to mention the _burns,_ my God. Those _still_ hurt."

He rolled his shoulders and winced, to illustrate.

"You're no better than Xephos," Rythian said, as the water lapped at his stomach. His fingers were already going numb, and the water was buzzing with power.

_"Better_ than Xephos?" Nilesy cried, and threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, no no, Rythian, you've got me all wrong. There's no such thing as a better or worse person, Xephos included. No, I just want to destroy everything he loves and cares for."

"Lalna's going to kill you." The water was up to his chest, and his heart was fluttering. The cold metal around his wrists and ankles was stinging his skin. He lifted his chin instinctually as the water continued to rise.

"I really don't think so," Nilesy replied. "I think what Lalna's going to do is jump into this tank of water you've so kindly charged to several thousand volts for me, and short-circuit itself quite neatly. Incidentally, how long d'you think the water will stay charged, once you're dead? I'd hate to call too late and ruin the whole thing."

"You won't get away with this," Rythian told him again. The water was lapping at his neck.

"Well, unless your _friends_ get here in the next—oh, four minutes—I'll be halfway there," Nilesy replied evenly.

Frigid water kissed Rythian's jaw, and he tipped his head back further, pointing his face to the ceiling, taking slow, deep breaths.

"Oh, good plan," Nilesy said. "I'll keep a timer. The record's three minutes and twenty, by the way. You could always try and beat it."

The water closed over his ears, and the world went quiet. There was only the muffled roar of the water, clicking and ticking with the charge it had accumulated. Panic and pain were shortening his breath, speeding his heart rate, and his last few breaths were nothing more than frantic gasps.

The water closed over his head, rose another two inches, then stopped.

Nilesy grinned at him, and waved.

Rythian shut his eyes, centered himself, and hoped like hell.

 


	7. Chapter 6

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"Rythian has been kidnapped," Lalna stated, the moment Nano walked in the door at eight o'clock. Their eyes were a bright, dangerous red.

She dropped her bag and stared at them.

_"What?"_ she said. Her brain was fuzzy from the three-hour meeting, and the words Lalna was saying took some time to percolate through the mist.

"It is not my fault," Lalna continued. "He went away. A man drugged him and took him from the bar. I waited for you. We are going to get him now."

They walked up to her and handed her a sealed tupperware container.

"You can eat dinner on the way," they said.

"Lalna, what—" Nano began, but they had already brushed past her and gone out the door. She hurried after them, her head spinning.

"Would you _wait_ just one second?" she demanded, nearly having to jog to keep up with Lalna's purposeful stride.

"It has already been an hour since he was taken," Lalna stated. "I will not wait any longer. The odds that he is already dead double every hour."

"Okay, look, I get that you're upset, but are you _sure—"_

"The man who took him was unregistered," Lalna said. "He bought Rythian two drinks and drugged both of them."

"Oh," said Nano, her stomach sinking. "Um. What . . . what're we supposed to do about it?"

Lalna's head snapped round to glare at her. She raised her hands.

"I'm not saying we _shouldn't_ do anything! I'm just asking if you've got a plan!"

"We will go to _Joule's_ and they will tell us who the other man is. He paid with cash, but someone will know his name. He likely had a car to make his escape; Rythian could barely walk by the time he was taken. I will find it and access its GPS coordinates, and then we will find Rythian."

"Wait wait wait. _Joule's?_ Lalna, you _can't_ go in there. You _cannot."_

"Why?"

"Because it's full of Powered people! Nothing but!"

"I know," said Lalna. "I am currently monitoring the security feed. I have identified no less than six unregistered Powered individuals. I have devised contingency plans for the others. It will take me forty seconds to clear the bar of hazards, plus or minus sixteen seconds."

"No. No no no, you are _not_ going Hazard Mode in the middle of a crowded bar. _No._ Look, just—you just wait round the corner, and I'll go in and talk to people. All right?"

"No," Lalna said. "Not all right. Your methods are significantly less efficient than mine. Every hour since the kidnapping—"

_"Lalna,"_ Nano snapped, grabbing their arm. They nearly pulled her off her feet, not so much as slowing their steps. She stumbled, but kept hold of them. "Lalna, _listen_ to me. This is going to cause more problems than it solves. What you're planning on, that's _terrorism,_ Lal, we can't _do_ that to innocent people."

"No one stopped Rythian's kidnapper," Lalna said. "Several of them saw him drug the drinks. They are all complicit."

"They weren't paying _attention!"_ Nano cried. "People _do_ that, Lalna, they don't _notice_ everything like you do! It's not their fault and you _can't_ go in there, do you understand me?"

Lalna was silent for a long time, their eyes dimming as they rerouted processing power.

"I will give you five minutes," Lalna said. "Then we will use my method."

Nano's heart started pounding, and her lungs shrank by two sizes. She swallowed.

"Okay," she said. "I'll be as quick as I can, but Lalna, _please_ don't hurt anyone. We've been working all year to keep people from thinking of you as a weapon, and something like this—no one will ever forget it if you come crashing into a Powered bar and take the whole place down in less than a minute. All right? _Especially_ not the people who were in there."

Lalna nodded. "I have deemed it an acceptable risk."

"Well _I_ haven't," Nano said. "Lalna, _trust me._ Please. We'll find Rythian, we'll help him. You just have to agree not to hurt anyone."

Again, Lalna's eyes darkened as they thought about this.

"Okay," they said.

* * *

 

Nano left Lalna a block away, promising to leave her communicator on so they could listen to her progress and provide information if necessary. She straightened her shirt, took the YogLabs employee pass off her lapel and stuck it in her pocket, then took the short walk through the dark to _Joule's._

The bouncer, a heavily-muscled man with a black chinstrap beard, held up a hand as Nano approached.

"Gonna need some ID, sweetheart," he said.

Nano dug her Registry card out of her wallet and presented it. The bartender looked it over, and then handed it back.

"Registered, are you?" he said.

"Yeah," said Nano, trying to keep from sounding defiant.

"First time?"

"Um . . . yeah to that one too."

The bouncer smiled and handed back her card. "Have fun, sweetheart."

"Yeah, all right."

He gave an exaggerated wink, and Nano rolled her eyes. She ducked inside before the bouncer could say anything else.

The inside of _Joule's_ was dim and busy, but not crowded. She could see immediately why Rythian would gravitate to a place like this—at least half the patrons were visibly Powered, and many of them used or wore assistive devices, from wheelchairs to joint braces to all manner of sensory aids. Many were scarred, some sported spare limbs and appendages, and a few were hardly humanoid at all. Nano stopped just inside the door, struck by a new and disconcerting feeling.

For the first time since her childhood, she didn't look out of place.

_"Nano,"_ Lalna said in her ear.

"I'm getting to it," she hissed, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

She wound her way through the crowd, up to the bar. She waited to be noticed, fidgeting, a timer counting down in her head. She tried hard not to imagine what Lalna would do to these people, if they came crashing in through the door.

It would not be pretty.

"What can I getcha, luv?" someone asked, breaking Nano from her reverie. She looked up to see a gorgeous black woman, with tawny eyes and rainbow dreadlocks, smiling at her across the bar.

Her tongue immediately tied itself in a knot, and her stomach did a backflip.

"I'm—um—I'm actually looking for—for—for someone," she managed, flushing hotly.

"Oh, _please_ say it's me," the woman purred, leaning her chin on a hand, her eyes narrowed with pleasure.

Nano nearly combusted.

"I—well I—oh, I'm not—I'm—"

_"Nano,"_ Lalna warned again.

Nano cursed under her breath and wrestled herself back under control.

"No. Sorry. No. Um. Not you." She then added, in a fit of recklessness, "Today."

"Yeah?" said the woman, and grinned. "All right then. Who're you lookin' for?"

"Uh. Person named, uh, Rythian? He wears this—"

"Oh, yeah, Ryth was in," the woman said, nodding. "Left on the arm of a cute little number round about seven."

"Um," said Nano. "I think um. W-well, the thing is, we—I—think he might've been, um. Drugged."

The smile fell off the woman's face and shattered on the bar.

"What," she said darkly.

A shiver ran up Nano's spine, despite everything.

"Look, it's just—well, there's a sort of a—"

"Is he all right?" she demanded. "I swear on my goddamn life, if anyone's fucked with Rythian—"

Nano's brain whipped into high-gear.

If she told the woman that she didn't know where Rythian was, she would wonder how Nano knew he'd been drugged, and then she'd have to explain having access to the security system. If, on the other hand, she just said he wasn't all right and provided no details, the woman might demand to see him.

So instead, she just said, "Um. Yeah. He's—he's fine. Probably."

The woman let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. "When I find that hipster little fuck I'm gonna tear his bloody _cock off!"_ she snarled.

"You saw him?" Nano asked, leaning forward.

_"Saw_ him? I sold him the fuckin' _drinks!"_ She whirled away from Nano and stormed over to the other bartender. "Oy, I'm clockin' the fuck out, cover for me."

"Jess, what—" the other bartender said, her eyes wide.

"That lispy fuckin' bastard's roofied Rythian," she snarled.

_"Zylus?"_ the other bartender cried. "Jess, I dunno what rock you've been living under, but the day _Zylus_ roofies anybody is the day—"

_"It's an alias,"_ Lalna said in Nano's ear, while the two bartenders continued to argue.

"What now?" Nano hissed to them, putting a hand over her mouth to hide the movement of her lips.

"I don't give one single _fuck_ what's on his goddamn _blog—"_ Jess the bartender was declaring, poking her co-worker in the chest.

_"Did she say blog? Find out the name. I can find him from there."_

"What blog?" Nano piped up, her voice coming out too loud and too fast.

"Some fuckin' bollocks about _asexuality,"_ Jess snapped at her. "Who gives a shit?"

"It's not bollocks," her co-worker objected.

_"Found it,"_ Lalna said in Nano's ear. _"It was last accessed from a phone."_

"Can you trace it?"

_"No, the phone is off. But the site is registered to a Zachary Lucas, whose car is currently outside a warehouse to the northwest."_

"You think it's him?"

_"I am eighty percent sure."_

"Is that good enough?" she asked, shocked.

_"There is no time. It will have to do."_

"Okay. I'll meet you outside."

She got up and slid away from the bar. When she was almost to the door, she heard Jess shout after her, "Where the fuck're _you_ goin', then?"

Nano only ducked her head and hurried out. Once she was on the street, she broke into a sprint. Lalna met her halfway back to where she'd left them.

"We're flying," they told her. "It's sixteen miles away."

"Okay," Nano said, panting. "I'll follow you."

Lalna nodded and primed their flight systems. With a low hum, the systems engaged and they lifted effortlessly into the air. Nano followed, somewhat more clumsily. Once she was off the ground, Lalna shot straight up, leaving her scrambling to catch up. They rose to the height of a six-story building, and then turned northwest and took off, so fast that Nano had to focus all her energy on just keeping up.

"When we get there," Lalna said, raising their voice to be heard over the wind, "I will neutralize any targets. You will find Rythian and ensure he is not harmed."

"Lal," Nano panted. "We don't even . . . know what's happened. He might be . . . fine, anyway. Right? Going in . . . guns blazing, that's not . . . really the smart thing . . . to do."

"I do not care," said Lalna. "Rythian was taken against his will. I have no sympathy for anyone who was involved."

Nano let herself drop back a few feet. She had never seen Lalna so angry, never heard them speak like this, not even in training simulations where they were meant to be at their most deadly.

It occurred to her, along with a queasy feeling, that maybe this was _precisely_ why Xephos had chosen to socialize them in the first place.

The flight to the warehouse took less than ten minutes, and Nano's face was stinging by the time they arrived, her eyes watering. The two of them alighted in a parking lot, and even Lalna paused to assess their surroundings.

They were in a complex of warehouses that backed up against the river. There were dozens of buildings, long and low with tin roofs and barred windows. The place was nearly silent; only the distant roar of traffic and the steady sloshing of the river were to be heard.

"What now?" Nano asked, looking around nervously. Half the outdoor lights had burned out, leaving the complex full of shadows.

"We will search," Lalna said.

"You can't just—like, look for heat signatures?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "But they are not in my field of view at the moment, so we will search."

Nano took a deep breath, then put a hand on their arm.

"Lalna," she said. "I need you to listen to me."

"I am listening," they said.

"Okay, good. Look, don't—don't go in shooting. All right? Just don't. Give us both a couple of seconds to figure out what's going on. No deadly force. Understand? We'll talk our way out if we can. Promise me you'll try talking first."

Lalna held perfectly still for three whole seconds, the red light of their eyes casting lurid shadows over their face.

"I promise," they said at last.

Nano sighed, sagging with relief. "Thank you. Okay. Let's go."

They nodded and set off, and Nano followed. The two of them walked between the warehouses, along dark rows and up shadowed alleys, until finally they spotted a warehouse with its lights on.

"There," Nano said, pointing, even though Lalna was already making a determined beeline for it.

"There are two heat signatures inside," Lalna reported as they approached.

"That's good," said Nano. "I mean, right? That's good, right?"

"It is impossible to tell," Lalna said. "Human bodies take several hours to cool, even after they are dead. One of the signatures is significantly attenuated."

Nano swallowed. "Oh," she said.

The two of them reached the warehouse, and once again Nano put a restraining hand on Lalna's arm.

"Have a listen," she said, indicating the door. "It might not be them."

Lalna nodded and leaned their head close to the door. Their eyes dimmed, and they went statue-still again.

"What d'you hear?" Nano hissed, crouching behind Lalna, vibrating with tension.

"Nilesy is inside," Lalna answered quietly. "He said, _The record's three minutes and twenty, by the way. You could always try and beat it."_

Nano cursed fervently. "Go! Go go go!" she ordered, shoving Lalna in the back.

Lalna stood up straight, steadied themselves, and threw open the door. They ran in, feet clanging on the concrete floor, and Nano hurried in after them.

The warehouse was bare, with fluorescent bulbs suspended from the ceiling in long rows. A pit had been cut into the floor, ten feet deep at least and half as wide, surrounded by a sheet of steel. The pit contained a plastic tank, full of water. Nilesy was standing near the edge, his hands held up by his hips, his attention drawn suddenly to the door. He was wearing thick rubber gloves, and Rythian's respirator lay on the ground at his feet. After a moment of shock, he grinned at them.

"You're early," he said. "Hope you don't mind I've started without you."

"Where's Rythian?" Nano demanded, although there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that said she already knew.

Nilesy nodded towards the in-ground tank.

"He's having a quick dip. Against his will, but oh well, sometimes you've got to bathe the dog whether he likes it or not. Though by the smell of him, someone's already done it today."

_"Shit!"_ Nano cursed, dashing forward. Lalna caught her by the arm. Their eyes were blazing red.

"You will be electrocuted," they said. Again, there was that undercurrent of real anger in their voice that made her wish they were standing a little farther away.

"You just _had_ to spoil it, didn't you," Nilesy sighed, shaking his head. "What gave it away? Was it me being here?"

"Drain the tank," Lalna ordered.

"No," Nilesy mused. "I think I'm just going to let him drown."

"Requesting authorization for lethal force," Lalna said quietly.

"No," she answered. "We can take him without it."

Lalna nodded and raised a hand. There was a climbing whine as they charged their laser rifle.

"You have ten seconds to comply," Lalna told Nilesy. "Drain the tank."

Nilesy smiled at them and turned his head, speaking into the collar of his shirt.

"Panda, darling," he said pleasantly, "I could use a bit of backup."

There was a second's pause, and then the side door of the warehouse flew open. Something, moving so fast it was a blur, shot inside. It hit Lalna so hard it sent them tumbling; in doing so, it lost enough speed that Nano could briefly make it out.

It was a short, stocky young man, wearing goggles and a black suit and hideously tacky running shoes, his face stony with focus. His dark skin was striped with pale scars, and his hair had been wrestled into a thick ponytail. He picked up speed again almost instantly, made a second-long loop of the warehouse, and slammed into Nano shoulder-first before she had time to dodge.

The impact knocked the wind out of her and sent her tumbling nearly to the side of the tank. This, she reflected, should not have been surprising, since she weighed a sixth of what Lalna did and the man had hit her at nearly the same speed.

From her new position, she could see Rythian. He was bound hand and foot to a chair, his head bowed, his body still. There was blood in the water around him. The tank was making faint crackling noises.

The young man skidded to a halt at Nilesy's side and pulled his goggles up. He grinned at Nilesy, who regarded him approvingly, smiling back.

"I stopped off at Starbucks on the way," the young man said, speaking with hyperactive speed. "I hope I'm not late."

"It's a miracle you didn't dislocate your shoulder on the robot," Nilesy told him.

"Oh, _please._ I'm not _stupid._ Bipeds topple so easily. It was only a glancing blow, anyway. How goes the murdering?"

Nilesy peered down into the tank.

"Still holding his breath, I think," he said. "Oh, yes, look, he's twitching a bit. He's never going to make the record at this rate."

"Poor sod," the other remarked. "Are we killing the girl, too?"

As if by magic, a pair of short daggers appeared in Panda's hands. The blood drained from Nano's face as she imagined, quite without meaning to, just how _much_ damage they could do in those particular hands.

Nilesy turned his head and regarded Nano with a look so calculating it made her skin crawl.

"Not just yet," he said.

"All right. Hang on."

Lalna had managed to get to their feet. The young man blurred again, and suddenly Lalna was back on the floor, and Nilesy's accomplice was skidding to a halt at his side once more.

"Panda," Nilesy admonished. "You've got to put the goggles on, we've talked about this. One bug in the wrong place and you'll put your eye out."

"Yes, _Dad,"_ Panda drawled, grinning.

Nano struggled to her feet, her eyes fixed on Rythian. He had started twitching where he sat, his hands opening and closing, his eyes squeezed shut. Nano's heart stuttered in her chest. They had seconds, at best.

"Lalna," she said, her voice sharp despite the fact that she was still getting her breath back. "I'm authorizing lethal force!"

"Acknowledged," Lalna said darkly, and they climbed to their feet again. Panda darted out from Nilesy's side.

Nano chose that moment to leap into flight, hurling herself at Nilesy.

She was knocked aside with such force that it cracked one of her ribs and sent her sprawling. She hadn't even managed to make it two feet. The blur of Panda was making another circuit of the warehouse, maintaining momentum as he curved around, meteoric, towards Lalna.

Lalna's head twitched as they tracked the motion. They stood still for a moment, eyes dark as they rerouted power to computing systems. Panda knocked them over again, then came to a halt at the side of the tank, massaging his shoulder, grinning. He was approximately equidistant from Nilesy and Lalna.

Lalna's eyes had resumed their hazardous red color.

"You will drain the tank," they said to Nilesy.

"Hear that, Niles?" Panda chirped. "You're going to drain the tank. The war machine can tell the future, apparently. Isn't technology amazing?"

"Oh, well, if the war machine say so," Nilesy conceded. "I'm sure I must."

He raised his hands a fraction. The water rose another inch.

Rythian jerked suddenly, his body curling forward. A gout of bubbles poured from his mouth and nose, and he started thrashing violently. Blood floated out into the water, stirred into turbulent swirls by his struggling.

"Whoops, there he goes," Nilesy said, and cackled.

Lalna raised a hand and fired an invisible laser-pulse at Panda, who blurred out of the way, leaving the shot to vaporize a circular patch of concrete wall, an inch across and three deep.

Then _Lalna_ blurred.

Nano couldn't follow everything that happened next. Lalna shot across the room; Panda squealed and blurred again; another shot was fired and Nilesy ducked it.

And then Lalna was standing on the other side of the room, holding Panda up by his neck while he kicked frantically and scrabbled at the titanium plates of Lalna's arm.

"You will drain the tank," Lalna said, their tone unchanged.

Nilesy had gone white. His hands were shaking.

In the tank, Rythian had stilled, and was floating limp amidst the red swirls of his own blood.

Panda's lips formed a word, but no sound passed them. His eyes were bugging out, his face swelling up.

"All right!" Nilesy gasped. He lowered his hands, and with a gurgling noise, the tank began to drain. "All right, put him down!"

The water drained down past Rythian's head. His chin rested on his chest, utterly still, utterly limp.

Panda's pale scars were starting to go blue. His kicking was growing weak.

"Put him _down!"_ Nilesy cried, his voice cracking.

Lalna opened their hand, and Panda dropped to the floor, gasping and coughing. Nilesy ran to him, dropping to his knees at his side.

"Breathe, breathe," he murmured, putting a hand under Panda's head to help him hold it up. "You're all right, just breathe."

There was a final gurgle, and Lalna, without warning, leapt down into the tank. Nano stayed where she was, forcing herself to keep an eye on Nilesy. If he decided to flood the tank again, both Lalna _and_ Rythian would die. She started edging towards him, holding herself carefully to keep from agitating her broken rib.

"I cannot detect a pulse," Lalna reported from inside the tank.

"If you've killed him," Nano hissed at Nilesy, "you're a dead man."

Nilesy barely glanced at her. He helped Panda to sit up, still fussing over him.

"Runway clear?" Panda asked, his voice hoarse.

"You really shouldn't—" Nilesy began.

"Is or isn't the runway clear, Nilesy?" Panda said impertinently.

Nilesy sighed. "Don't forget your inertial dampers," he answered.

Panda put a hand on the back of Nilesy's head and butted him gently in the forehead.

Nano realized, an instant too late, that their conversation had been anything but facetious.

Panda shot to his feet, dragging Nilesy up with him. In a second, he had accelerated to blurring speed again. Nano lunged for the two of them, but far too late—they had been across the room, and she hadn't been between them and the door.

The door crashed off its hinges. Faintly, dwindling into the distance, Nano heard a repeating litany of _ow ow ow ow ow. . . ._

"God _dammit!"_ she cried. "Lalna, they've got away!"

"Good," they answered. "I need your help. His charge is not declining fast enough for me to help him."

Cursing again, Nano hurried to the tank and dropped down into it, ignoring the gritted-teeth pain of her broken rib. Her feet splashed in a puddle, and she had a moment of panic, expecting instantaneous and painful death. When it didn't come, she got her feet under her and ran to Rythian and Lalna.

"What do I do?" she said, looking between the two of them, her stomach churning with fear, pain making her thoughts slow and blurry.

"Laying him on his side may help get the fluid out of his lungs," Lalna said.

Nano dropped to her knees and wrapped her hands around the legs of the chair. One of her knuckles brushed Rythian's sopping wet calf, and again, she had a moment of heart-stopping terror. She didn't allow herself to think about why she wasn't dead; she just poured her power into the palms of her hands and squeezed.

The wooden legs hissed and sizzled, dwindling as they were eaten away. They reached a critical thinness and splintered, and the chair toppled over, dumping Rythian's limp body directly onto Nano.

She screamed, clawing her way out from under him, and her hand brushed one of the metal grates in the floor.

There was a _bang,_ and everything went dark.

 


	8. Chapter 7

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nilesy came into the dim little flat, peeling off his suit jacket and tossing it aside, and flung himself down on the sofa. He tore his mask off and threw it on the floor. He buried his face in his hands, then pushed his fingers up into his hair, resting his elbows on his knees.

Without a sound, a huge pair of wings folded around him, warm and soft. A pair of hands rested on his shoulders.

"Lom," he said.

"Things didn't go well," she said, her voice soft as eiderdown.

"Corrosion Lass and the war machine turned up," Nilesy said, his lip curling. "A bit ahead of schedule, damn them."

She pressed her thumbs into his shoulders and drew little circles with them. He nearly melted on the spot.

"If you're going to pamper anyone, it should be Panda," he said, keeping his voice level by sheer force of will.

"No thanks, I'm good," said Panda.

"It nearly _killed_ you," Nilesy pointed out.

"But it didn't," Panda said. "Really, I'm all right. Except maybe a bit low on sugar. Anybody seen my meter?"

"It's on the kitchen counter, where you put it before we left," Nilesy said.

"Thanks, Niles," said Panda.

"I should've come," said Lomadia. Her hands were dictating the flow of his breath.

"We've been through this, dear," Nilesy said. "Enclosed spaces and all."

"I would've torn the metal man apart," she said. Nilesy shivered at the conviction in her voice.

"We've been through _that,_ too," he said. His fists clenched in his hair. _"No one is to engage the robot._ We all agreed. And I broke the rule, and I nearly got Panda _killed_ because of it."

"Technically it's me who engaged the robot and nearly got me killed," Panda called from the kitchen. "If we're being technical, which apparently we are, and really we should be. And I promise I'm all right, you haven't got to be so hard on yourself." There was a high electronic beep. "Well. I _will_ be all right, after a juice box."

"Bottom shelf in the fridge," said Nilesy.

"I _know_ where we keep them, you haven't got to mother me."

"Yes I have," Nilesy replied. "You nearly _died."_

There was a slurping noise from the kitchen.

"And I _haven't._ Honestly, Niles, it's a good thing I was there, otherwise _you'd_ be dead for sure, them turning up out of the blue like that."

Nilesy clenched his jaw. His heart was still pounding with remembered panic, the sinking terror of seeing the war machine come striding through the door like silver death, its terrible eyes glowing with hellfire.

"How did they _find_ us?" he hissed.

"Dunno," said Panda. He flopped down onto the sofa next to Nilesy, making Lomadia's wings flutter. "Maybe the same way we found Rythian. Y'know. Looking. D'you think he's dead? He seemed rather dead, but it's hard to tell, and besides, drowning isn't exactly foolproof."

"I should have snapped his neck," Nilesy muttered. "I _knew_ I should have snapped his neck, damn me."

A pair of cold, thin lips touched behind his ear.

"But you wouldn't've had any fun," Lomadia murmured to him.

"Lom, please," Nilesy whispered, flushing. "Later."

"Yes," she said softly, and kissed him behind the ear again.

"Anyway, we'll know as soon as Zylus gets back," Panda said. The couch was vibrating as he jigged his leg. "I didn't notice him. Where was he, anyway?"

"West corner," Nilesy said. "Watching the door. Thank God he didn't try to help."

"What would he have done?" Panda asked. "I somehow doubt he can read the robot's brains, and even if he could, it wouldn't do much good. Probably all ones and zeros in there. Maybe the girl knew something, though, I'm sure he could've gotten that."

"Ah, yes," said Nilesy, gritting his teeth. "The _girl."_

"When you kill her," Lomadia said, "I want to watch."

 _"Are_ we killing her?" Panda asked. "Only it _is_ a bit of a boy's club round here and she seemed nice enough."

"She ordered the robot to kill you," Nilesy said flatly.

"Well, yes," he allowed, "but she's quite effective in her own right. I read all the files, I know for sure. Besides, the robot might come with her, and then _we'd_ have it!"

"That's not exactly what I meant, darling," Nilesy replied carefully.

Just then, the door opened. Lomadia lifted her wings out of the way, revealing the room once more. Nilesy pulled himself together and sat up. Thankfully, Lomadia kept her hands on his back, which made the task somewhat easier.

The door swung closed again, and for a moment, it seemed that no one had entered. Then there was a flicker and Zylus was standing there, rubbing his eye.

"It'sh damn crowded out there tonight," he said.

"You didn't _have_ to stay invisible the whole way," Panda pointed out. "It's not as though anyone knows what you look like when you're not wearing the outfit. The monocle's all they remember anyway."

"Do I tell you how to do _your_ job?" Zylus asked. "No. Sho don't go telling me how to do mine."

"All in one piece?" Nilesy asked him. "A couple of those shots came a bit close for comfort."

Zylus snorted. He crossed stiffly to the armchair next to the couch and settled into it. He took his black-rimmed spectacles off and tucked them in his shirt pocket.

"You're telling me," he said. "Shtupid thing nearly took a chunk out of my shoulder."

"But it didn't?"

"That'sh what I shaid, Nileshy," Zylus said. "Calm down."

"He's having a day," Panda said.

"Of course I'm having a bloody day!" Nilesy burst out. "You'd be having a bloody _day_ too! You _ought_ to be having a bloody _day,_ because the bloody stupid thing nearly _killed you!"_

"He's very hung up on that," Panda said affectionately.

"I can shee that," Zylus remarked. "Sheriously, mate, it'sh all right. We made it out in one pieshe, and that'sh what mattersh."

Nilesy took a deep breath, fuming. He reached up over his shoulder and took Lomadia's hand.

"How did they find us?" he asked.

"I'd guessh they have a tracker on Rythian," Zylus said.

"You don't know?" Lomadia asked.

"She washn't thinking about it," he explained. "I looked around, but she wash panicking and there washn't much to shee."

 _"Damn,"_ Nilesy spat.

"I'll find the girl," Lomadia said. "She'll tell me."

"Er, you _do_ know she like, oozes acid from her skin, right?" Panda said.

Nilesy watched him shrink back under Lomadia's gaze. Panda raised his hands and grinned nervously.

"Sorry! Just wondering. Not the way I'd choose to do things. You know yourself best, I'm sure."

Zylus was smirking at him. "Shorry, Panda, did you drop your shpine shomewhere? Could've shworn you had it here a minute ago."

Nilesy turned his head expectantly. Sure enough, within moments, Zylus was shriveling, just as Panda had.

"Jusht shaying!" he squeaked. "He had a bit of a point! Short of! Jusht a little one, shertainly not shaying he wash absholutely right—"

"Zylus darling," Nilesy purred, "quit while you're ahead."

"It'sh all right for _you,"_ Zylus muttered. "She _likesh_ you."

"No," said Nilesy, grinning. "Really?"

He tipped his head back, and Lomadia, obligingly, kissed him. He spent a moment staring up into her face, memorizing her for the thousandth time—the huge round eyes, fixed to center; the narrow, flat nose; the strong chin and thin lips; the tiny feathers framing her face.

For the thousandth time, he fell in love.

The corner of Lomadia's mouth curled, and she kissed him again.

"I like Zylus and Panda too," she said.

"Mm. Not your fault they're scared of you."

"I like it, though."

"I didn't say they shouldn't be."

Lomadia kissed him a third time, and for longer. Nilesy lost himself in the sensation.

Panda sighed dreamily. "You two are so cute," he said.

"You mean dishgushting," Zylus said.

"Disgustingly cute," said Panda. "You can't tell me you're not a _little_ jealous."

"Yesh I can," said Zylus. He gestured to Nilesy and Lomadia, wrinkling his nose. "I shee nothing appealing about that."

Panda pouted. "You haven't got to spoil it for the rest of us."

Zylus grinned a wicked grin. _"You're_ jusht jealoush because he won't—"

A huge wing clipped his head.

"Oh dear," said Lomadia. "Silly of me."

"Be kind, dear," Nilesy admonished, smiling.

"That _was_ kind," she said.

Nilesy winked at her, then let his head roll forward again. Lomadia climbed up onto the back of the sofa and perched there, her knees drawn up to her chest. She put a hand on Nilesy's head, and he reached back and draped his fingers over her taloned foot.

"Well," he said. "Moving forward. Ideas? Suggestions? Remarks?"

"I'd shay our firsht order of bushinessh ought to be figuring out how the girl found the warehoushe," said Zylus. He took his glasses out of his pocket and polished them on his shirt. "If she did it onshe, it'sh posshible she could do it again."

"I'm not so sure about _first,"_ said Panda. "Maybe we should make sure Rythian's dead? Because if he's not, he'll be out for blood. I assume. He seems the type to be out for blood, from what you've told us. And if he is, we'll want to be prepared before any of us go anywhere near where he might be. Especially since, if he _is_ alive, it'll be because the girl saved him, and the girl's got the robot, and that could cause problems."

"Good point," said Zylus. "I might be able to figure it out, but if Rythian shaw me, I'd be toasht."

"I'm out, too," said Panda. "The girl and the robot both got plenty of looks at me. Maybe Nilesy could manage if he wasn't wearing the—"

"No," said Nilesy, cutting him off.

"I'll do it," said Lomadia. "There're perches near their nest. I won't be seen."

"Are there?" said Nilesy. _"Ex_ -cellent. Will they have taken him back to their base, I wonder?"

"Ooh, maybe not," said Panda. "They might have taken him to hospital. He was either dead or nearly there when we left."

"He didn't have a pulshe," Zylus said. "They were making a lot of noishe, though, and I washn't sure Panda wash all right, sho I left before they came out and shtarted shearching."

"Hospital then," said Panda.

"Maybe not," Nilesy mused. "He wasn't registered until lately. If he had any say in the matter, I doubt he'd have gone somewhere where they'd have written him down."

"I can take a walk-through of the hoshpital, shee if anyone'sh notished him," Zylus offered. "While Lomadia doesh her shtakeout. He'sh bound to have attracted shome attention, if he'sh there."

"Ooh, there's a plan," said Panda. "What should I do, Niles?"

"Stay home and rest," Nilesy told him firmly. "I don't want you hurting yourself because your airway's swelling or something. There's no _telling_ what that kind of trauma's going to do to your system."

"I'm _fine,_ Nilesy!" Panda whined, sticking out a lip. "It barely even messed with my blood sugar!"

"Rest," Nilesy repeated, stern. "Once we know the situation, I'm sure there'll be plenty for you to do."

"All _right,"_ he grumbled, folding his arms and sitting back. Lomadia patted his head. He sighed and leaned into the touch.

"And you?" Lomadia asked Nilesy.

"Unfortunately," he said, "I've got work."

"Aw, Niles," Panda said. "Can't we just rob a bank or something? Surely you haven't got to go back _already."_

"You can't solve all your problems by robbing banks, Panda," Nilesy told him.

"Sure, but you can solve the ones that involve money. Which is most of them."

"I've got shomething lined up, actually," Zylus said. "It'sh a game shtore downtown. Nothing shpectacular, but it'sh shteadier pay than pickpocketing, and maybe you could eashe off a little?"

"It's really not so bad as you're making it out to be," Nilesy told them, though inside he was glowing.

"It ish," said Zylus.

"It definitely is," Panda agreed.

"It kills you slowly," Lomadia said, her voice dark. "Like poison."

"D'you what else kills people slowly? Starvation. I'm _fine,_ really. But congratulations, Zylus! Maybe we ought to celebrate."

"I could run down to the store and get stuff for vindaloo," Panda offered. "Not like actually run, but just sort of take the bus. I could do with the carbs anyway."

"Panda, you're a godshend," Zylus told him.

"And I shall demand a foot massage when I've done," Panda answered.

"Demand away, if you're making vindaloo."

Lomadia rustled her wings, although it was more of a shiver, since it didn't make any noise. Nilesy looked back at her.

"Time to go, dear?" he asked.

"The sky is calling," she said.

"Then by all means, answer! We'll see you in the morning, I'm sure."

She climbed down off the couch, rustled her wings again, and kissed him quickly on the temple.

"Good hunting," she said.

"Good hunting, dear," he replied, pinching her cheek.

Her mouth curled into a little smile, and in a swirl of silent wings and the clicking of talons on linoleum, she crossed to the bay window, slid it open, and vanished into the night.

"Where does she _go,_ anyways?" Panda wondered, peering after her.

"Wherever she wants, Panda," Nilesy murmured dreamily. "Wherever the hell she wants."

* * *

 

When dinner had been made and duly eaten, and all the dishes piled into the sink, Nilesy returned to the sofa and lay down, propping his head up on an armrest. Zylus went back to his chair and Panda sat at his feet, tugging his own shoes and socks off. He lay back and kicked one foot up onto Zylus's knee, taking out his ponytail and lacing his hands behind his head. Zylus leaned forward and took his foot in both hands, pressing his thumbs into the ball of it.

"Oh, God, Zy," Panda sighed, his eyes drifting closed. "How'd you get so good at this?"

"If I told you," Zylus said, "you wouldn't believe me."

"Secretly he's the son of a famous pediatrician," Nilesy said.

"You mean podiatrisht," Zylus corrected.

"Ah, see, only the son of a podiatrist would know that. The secret's out, your cover's blown." He grinned. "And besides, I _did_ mean pediatrician, since Panda's only little."

"I am not!" Panda objected, glaring at him.

"Of _courshe_ not," Zylus muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He started working on the arch of Panda's foot, and the other man turned to putty.

"Oh, God," he moaned. "Y'know, Zylus, I think you might be onto something. This's better than sex."

"It alwaysh comesh down to shex with you people, doeshn't it," Zylus said, shaking his head.

"Someday I'll earn a Zylus foot massage," Nilesy said, regarding the future with dewy eyes. "Then I can die happy."

"It'sh not like I haven't offered," Zylus said.

"But I haven't _earned_ it," he replied.

Zylus patted the top of Panda's foot. "Shwitch," he said. Panda kicked his other foot onto Zylus's knee and let the first one slip to the floor.

"Niles, you've earned all the foot massages in the world," Panda said.

"Me? No, I don't do anything with my feet." He paused, while something in him twinged with old pain. "Anymore."

Both Zylus and Panda looked over at him, and then looked at each other.

"There'sh no reashon you couldn't go back to danshing," Zylus said. "I'm sure there'sh shtudiosh all over the plashe."

"With Zy's new job, we'd definitely be able to afford it," Panda put in.

Nilesy looked at the two of them sternly.

"It wouldn't work," he said, "and you know it wouldn't. All of that was a long time ago, and it's done now. I'm sure I'd make a damn fool of myself, anyway."

"So?" said Panda. "Nobody was ever happy without making a fool of themselves once or twice."

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it wouldn't work. But thank you. I appreciate the sentiment."

Zylus patted Panda's foot again. "All done," he said.

Panda lifted his head, pouting. "Already?" he asked.

"I've got to do the dishesh, mate."

"You're the greatest," Nilesy told him sincerely.

"Sheemsh like the leasht I can do," Zylus said, shrugging and levering himself to his feet.

"No, honestly. I'd be lost without you."

"You don't mean that," he said, rubbing the back of his head with his eyes lowered.

"You could always find out for sure," Nilesy invited.

"I'm not going in _your_ head again for love nor money," Zylus said, crossing to the tiny kitchen.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted."

"It washn't a compliment," Zylus said, "or an inshult. I jusht shaid I'm not going back in there."

"I shall think awfully nasty things about you," Nilesy promised.

"All the more reashon for me not to look."

"In that case, I shall think embarrassingly complimentary things about you."

"Shuch ash?"

"Oh, don't get him started, Zy, he'll never stop," Panda cut in.

"Too late," Nilesy said, grinning fiendishly. "Where shall I start? Well, you're a bloody genius for one thing. Devilishly clever, subtle as the faint scent of smoke in a dark and dripping forest—"

"Now you've done it," said Panda. "He's waxing poetic."

"It'sh a tragedy," Zylus sighed, smiling.

* * *

 

Zylus had finished the dishes and gone to bed, turning the lights out as he went. Panda had gotten his laptop out of his room and was sitting with his back against the sofa, hacking away at an essay of some kind. Nilesy was still lying on the sofa, his hands clasped over his stomach.

When the typing had been silent for long enough that he was certain Panda wasn't actually working, he said the thought that had been on his mind for over an hour.

 _"Better_ than sex?" he asked.

Panda paused, then shrugged. "I mean. _Some_ sex."

 _"Whose_ sex?" Nilesy probed.

"I haven't got much basis for comparison, you know."

"That isn't an answer."

"Well it wouldn't very well be yours, now would it?"

Nilesy smiled to himself, then composed his face again. He held out a hand and beckoned, not looking at Panda. There was a pause, and then Panda took his hand, laying a forearm on the couch and resting his cheek on it.

Nilesy turned his head, and met Panda's eyes, and smiled. He touched Panda's cheek with his free hand, traced his jaw, then drew him in by his chin and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm, and the way his breath caught was simply exquisite.

Panda pulled away, reluctant. "Nilesy," he said softly. "Lomadia'll be back."

"Not for a few hours yet," Nilesy said. He stroked Panda's jaw again, memorizing the topography of his scars. Panda's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into the touch, his breath coming short.

"You've got work in the morning," he mumbled.

"All the more reason to enjoy myself tonight," Nilesy replied easily.

"You're a terrible influence on me, you know that?" Panda said.

"Panda, darling, I drown people for fun," Nilesy said. "Ruining your bedtime is hardly on the radar."

"Not _my_ bedtime I'm worried about," he said. His voice had gone distant, and he was swaying with Nilesy's touch.

"I'm perfectly capable of worrying about my own bedtime, thank you," Nilesy said, trailing his fingertips over Panda's neck. Panda shivered.

"You're horrible," he breathed.

"The worst," Nilesy agreed.

Without any kind of warning at all, Panda leapt up onto the sofa, straddling Nilesy. He grabbed a handful of tie and hauled Nilesy up to kiss him, tangling a hand in his hair. A tiny squeak of alarm escaped Nilesy's lips, and he clutched Panda's shoulders to keep from being strangled with his own tie. Panda kissed fervently, like he might never get the chance again, and the sheer heat of it boiled the thoughts clean out of Nilesy's head, driving the steam engine of his body.

He fell back, pulling Panda down with him, never letting their lips break contact. Panda fumbled with his tie until he managed to pull it off and then started in on unbuttoning his shirt. Nilesy pushed a hand into Panda's hair and held on as Panda kissed along his jaw and down his neck, his heart pounding with the thrill of it.

Panda ground down hard against him, and Nilesy's whole body lit up with fireworks.

 _"Jesus,"_ he gasped, putting both palms on Panda's chest and pushing him back. "Easy there, jailbait."

"Nile- _sy,"_ Panda whined, bouncing up and down in childish frustration. Another volley of fireworks went off, and Nilesy hurriedly brought his hands down to Panda's hips, just for the sake of holding him still. He took a moment to catch his breath, waiting for the swirling steam of his thoughts to condense.

"I am _not_ jailbait," Panda said, pouting. "I'm nineteen already!"

 _"Barely_ nineteen," Nilesy told him sternly. "And you were _barely_ eighteen when I met you, and it's still a bit . . . _skeevy,_ darling."

"It's not as though you're that much older than me," Panda pointed out.

"You don't know that," said Nilesy.

"I would if you'd just tell me how old you are."

He winked. "It's a secret."

"I can keep a secret," Panda said.

"Can you?" Nilesy said, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, in that case. Listen, it so happens I've got this job opening that requires a fair amount of secrecy—"

Panda leaned down and kissed him. Nilesy sighed and rubbed Panda's hip bones with his thumbs. When Panda sat back again, he was smiling.

"You haven't got to recruit me _again,_ you know," he said.

"Oh, but it was just so much fun the first time," Nilesy demurred.

"Would you just _tell_ me how old you are? It's not like it'll do any harm."

"Forty-five," Nilesy said.

Panda's jaw dropped, and Nilesy threw his head back and cackled.

"You're not _serious?"_ Panda cried.

 _"No_ I'm not fucking _serious,"_ Nilesy replied, still laughing. "Do I _look_ forty-five to you?"

"You're horrible," Panda told him again.

"The _worst,"_ Nilesy agreed emphatically.

Panda reached out and ran a hand through Nilesy's hair, and Nilesy let his eyes drift closed, reveling in the blissful sensation.

"You don't mind if I just go on kissing you, though," said Panda. "Right?"

"Why on earth should I mind a thing like that?" Nilesy inquired.

"Mm, good point," said Panda. He leaned down and kissed him again, slowly regaining his fervor. His hand clenched in Nilesy's hair, and the other went back to undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Nilesy's toes curled, and he slid his hands up under Panda's shirt to dig his fingernails into his skin. Panda whimpered into his mouth, and the sound lit off a third volley of fireworks, crackling against the underside of his skin. He pushed his hands up to Panda's shoulders, and Panda raised his arms just long enough for Nilesy to pull his shirt off. Panda came back down to Nilesy's neck and nipped and suckled at the skin, tangling both hands in Nilesy's hair. Nilesy nearly bit through his lip trying to keep from moaning—Zylus was, after all, trying to sleep.

There was a quiet sound, plastic rolling on metal, and a click. It was the sound of the bay window being closed.

"Nilesy," Lomadia said.

Panda yelped in alarm and toppled off the couch. Nilesy sat up, swaying, struggling to regain focus. He ran a hand back through his hair in a futile attempt to un-muss it, the night air cold on his bare chest.

Lomadia stood behind the couch, her wings half spread, her eyes gleaming in the faint light from the window.

"Hello, dear," Nilesy said faintly. "You're home early."

She folded her arms and glared.

"It's raining," she said, petulant.

He clicked his teeth, drifting back to earth like a snowfall. "Shame. Shall I—shall I get the hair dryer?"

"No," said Lomadia. "You're in the middle of something."

"It's really no trouble," Panda mentioned, breathless.

Lomadia shrugged her wings, sending a cascade of droplets pattering to the floor.

"It's your turn anyway," she said.

"I don't mind—" Nilesy began.

Lomadia grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard enough to bruise his lips. He clutched at her arm for support as the force of her passion knocked the breath out of him. She let him go and he fell back onto the couch, reeling.

"Tomorrow you are mine," she said.

"Yes, dear," Nilesy said faintly.

Lomadia swept into her own room and closed the door, trailing water behind her the whole way. Nilesy lay still, waiting for the world to come back into focus. Before it got the chance, Panda climbed back onto the sofa and snuggled up next to him.

"I've honestly no idea which of you is luckier," Panda sighed, tracing the marks he'd left on Nilesy's neck with his fingertip.

"Me," Nilesy said, rapturous. "Definitely, _definitely_ me."

 


	9. Chapter 8

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano regained consciousness slowly, emerging layer by layer from darkness. Her fingers smarted and stung; there was a matching patch of burned skin on her shoulder. Her broken rib ached dully, and her ears were ringing. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck.

She heard an abrupt, gurgling cough to her left, and raised her head blearily.

Rythian was lying on his side on the floor, still bound to the chair. As she watched, he coughed again, a great gout of water gushing from his mouth. He twitched and gasped and went on coughing, violently, expelling more water from his lungs than seemed feasible.

Lalna was crouched next to him, their hands on their knees, their eyes pure white.

"Lal?" Nano croaked.

"I've contacted emergency services," they said, their voice small and frightened. "They'll be here in eight minutes."

Rythian gasped in a gurgling breath and coughed some more, although hardly any water came out this time.

"What . . . happened?" Nano asked, trying to sit up. Her broken rib twinged, but she kept going anyway, until she was vertical. She laid a hand over the wound and tried to get her bearings.

"You weren't grounded until you touched the grate," Lalna told her. "Then the circuit was completed and Rythian's remaining voltage discharged through you. I pulled you away before the charge began to build up again."

Rythian whimpered. There was a faint, meaty _pop,_ and he twitched, his face contorting with pain.

_"Mask,"_ he croaked.

Lalna was on their feet in an instant, and they leapt clear out of the tank in a single bound. They returned with Rythian's respirator in hand and laid it down next to him. His arms and legs were still lashed firmly to the chair, but he made a determined wriggle towards it. There was another meaty _pop_ and he convulsed again.

"Please help him," Lalna whispered.

Although every movement was like a knife in her side, Nano dragged herself back over to Rythian. With shaking hands, she picked up the respirator and pressed it to his face. He sucked down a deep and desperate breath, and then another, his eyes squeezed shut, his head tilted at an awkward angle as he leaned into the respirator. Nano sat there trembling, the memory of pain scintillating across her nerves, the burns on her fingers and shoulder twinging.

"Can you untie him?" Lalna asked.

Nano's heart skipped a beat. If she started fumbling with knots and manacles in her current state, it was all too likely that her hand would slip and then that terrible power would strike through her again, and how could she hope to be lucky enough to survive _twice?_

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I—I can't, I'm . . . I'm sorry, I can't. . . ."

"You aren't grounded," they told her. "You won't be hurt."

"I _can't,_ Lalna, I _can't_ do it," she moaned, tears making her vision swim.

"It's okay," Lalna reassured her, though they sounded nearly as distressed as she was. "In seven minutes, emergency services will be here."

Nano swallowed and nodded, focusing on keeping the respirator pressed to Rythian's face. The elastic bands that usually held it on had been snapped, as though it had simply been ripped off his face.

"Are . . . are you all right?" Nano managed, looking over at Lalna. They had resumed their huddled posture, and their eyes were still that blank, staring white.

"I am undamaged," they said.

"But are you _all right?"_ she pressed, her voice shaking.

They thought for a moment, then shook their head.

"I'm scared," they said. "I'm scared it isn't okay. I'm scared Rythian is still going to die. I'm scared you're hurt. There's nothing I can do to help."

Nano took as deep a breath as she could and let it out again deliberately.

"We'll be all right, Lal," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We're all three of us going to be all right. Undamaged. Okay?"

"That's not statistically likely," Lalna said.

"Lalna? There's a time and a place for statistics, and this isn't it. Listen to me. You're scared. I'm scared, too. It's okay to be scared right now. But we're doing everything we can, and we're damn well going to believe that it's going to be good enough. Okay? We're going to believe that, and it's going to be okay."

"If we had gotten here sooner, Rythian wouldn't be hurt," Lalna said miserably.

"Don't think about that right now, Lal," Nano warned. "It's not going to help."

"If I hadn't warned Nilesy—"

_"Lalna,"_ she cut in sharply. "Stop. Thinking about what-ifs, that isn't going to help, not a bit. It's only going to make things worse, d'you understand?"

"No," they said, shaking their head.

Nano took another slow, measured breath. Rythian had, at least, stopped shaking so much, and he wasn't coughing anymore, and his breathing was getting steadier.

"Could you," she said to Lalna, "figure out a way to get Rythian loose without touching him?"

Lalna nodded. "Okay," they said.

For almost thirty seconds, there was only the sound of Rythian's labored breathing and Nano's own heartbeat in her ears.

"Lalna," Nano said quietly. "Focus."

Lalna's eyes flickered, and then began to slowly shade to blue. After another ten seconds, they finally spoke.

"With some care, you should be able to use your Power to dissolve his bonds without touching him," they said. "There is a chance you will also burn him in the process."

Their eyes turned pure white again, and they turned their head to look at Nano.

"Was that helpful?" they asked.

She nodded. "Yes. Yes, it really was, thank you, Lalna. How long until the emergency people get here?"

"Four minutes and thirty seconds," said Lalna.

"Okay," she said, and took another calming breath, and nodded. "Okay. We're going to make it."

Lalna watched her in silence for another few seconds.

"Are you going to free Rythian?" they asked.

"I'm . . . working up to it," said Nano. She leaned down over Rythian, her palms sweating. "Rythian? Can you hear me?"

For three deep breaths, he didn't respond; then he gave a jerky nod.

"Okay," said Nano. "I'm going to try and—and get you loose. Okay? But I won't be able to hold the respirator on anymore, so—"

Rythian's eyes snapped open, wide with panic, and he shook his head frantically, sucking down breath after desperate breath.

"Hey, hey!" Nano cried. It took every fiber of her strength not to jerk her hands away when Rythian started moving. "Look, you can—you can probably just rest your head on the floor, and that'll hold it on, it won't take but a few seconds, I promise."

He whimpered, and squeezed his eyes shut, and then nodded quickly.

Nano lowered the respirator down, and Rythian's head went with it, until he was pressing his face to the floor to pin the respirator over his mouth and nose. There was a wide gap at his cheek, and his face was screwed up with pain or concentration. Nano moved as quickly as she dared, scooting around behind him to where his hands were bound.

Rythian's wrists were a mess of torn flesh, blood dripping onto the floor and running over his hands and arms, thinned by the water. The manacles that bound him were flimsy, but the ropes augmenting them were thick. His struggling had frayed the rope somewhat, had soaked it with blood, and it was even now biting into his flesh.

"I—I can't get him loose without burning him," Nano said quietly. "Maybe we should—just wait for the, y'know, the emergency people to get here, and they can get him loose. . . ."

"It'll be another two minutes and fifteen seconds," said Lalna.

"Is that all?" Nano asked faintly. "Barely any time at all! I don't mind waiting. Rythian, d'you mind waiting?"

He said nothing. There was a faint crackling noise rising off of him.

"I'm just . . . I'm just going to go back to holding the mask," said Nano.

"I understand," said Lalna.

Nano edged back around and pressed the fingers of her unburned hand to Rythian's respirator, fixing its seal against his cheek. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders, and he lay still, simply breathing, his dripping hair falling into his closed eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Rythian," Nano said quietly. "I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."

Again, Rythian didn't respond.

"I think he's lost consciousness," Lalna said. "His heart rate has dropped to his sleep-cycle norm."

"That's . . . that's not like, a bad sign, is it?" she asked nervously.

"I don't know," said Lalna.

The two of them were quiet for several seconds.

"Are you hurt?" Lalna asked.

"Broken rib," Nano reported. "A couple of burns, but I think otherwise I'm all right."

Lalna nodded. "I'm sorry you're hurt. I shouldn't have let it happen."

"It's not your fault, Lal. You were doing your best."

"No," Lalna said. "I could have killed both Nilesy and Panda. You had authorized lethal force. I chose not to. Because of that choice, both you and Rythian were hurt."

"It's all right," Nano told them. "We made it out all right anyway—"

"I'm defective," Lalna said, their voice hard and cold.

Nano recoiled. "You're—what? No, Lalna, no, why would you even _say_ that?"

"I was made to effectively manage precisely this type of situation," they said. "I failed. I have not performed optimally. I'm defective."

Nano was about to respond, but there was a wail of sirens from outside, and Lalna got up and leapt out of the tank again. Their feet clanged on steel and then concrete, and Nano was left alone with Rythian.

"Oh, Lal," she sighed sadly.

Moments later, Lalna returned with several paramedics in tow. They clambered down into the tank while Lalna briefed them on Rythian's voltage situation. They argued about it for nearly two minutes before one paramedic went back for a pair of gloves.

Another pair helped Nano out of the tank and bustled her into an ambulance, immobilizing her in a stretcher despite her protestations that she was fine. Before they closed the rear doors of the ambulance, Lalna climbed in, making the whole vehicle cant to one side.

"You haven't got to stay with me, you know," she told them, as one paramedic closed the rear doors and the other climbed into the cabin.

"You're my caretaker," they said. "I'm required to stay within one hundred meters of you at all times."

She looked up at them as the ambulance pulled into motion, its sirens now silent. Their eyes were still the same pure, fearful white.

"You'd rather be with Rythian, wouldn't you," she said.

"Yes," they said.

She lifted a hand as far as she could and patted their wrist.

"He'll be all right, Lalna," she promised.

"Okay," said Lalna.

* * *

 

It was morning by the time Nano was given a clean bill of health and told she could go home whenever she liked. They'd given her some pain medication and an icepack, and had given the usual admonishments about increasing her calcium intake.

"Honestly," she said to Lalna, "it's as though they've never met anyone whose entire body chemistry is acidic."

"Your osteopenia is a legitimate medical issue," Lalna said.

"Yeah, you know what else is a legitimate issue? Me not having any clothes. _Where_ have they taken my clothes? I'm not going home in this stupid gown, I'll tell you that for free."

"I don't know where your clothes are," Lalna said.

"Oh _fantastic,"_ she drawled, rolling her eyes. "You're _sure_ you can't just pop home and grab me a fresh set?"

"I'm sure," said Lalna.

Nano clicked her teeth. "Damn. It's _miles_ away, too, I can't walk all that way. Have they taken my shoes, too?"

"Yes."

_"Damn._ I suppose there's nothing for it, we'll have to go out and look—"

There was a knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head in. Nano drew the blankets on her bed up to her chin.

"Hallo," the nurse said. "Just popping in to see if there's anything I can get you. Water? Something from the snack machine?"

"Any way you could get me my clothes?" Nano inquired, fighting down her blush.

"Oh, er . . . well, I'll see if I can hunt them up. Odds are they've been bagged, on account of the blood, but I might be able to get hold of them before anybody throws them out. What was your name again?"

"Sounds," she said. "Nano."

"Right. I'll see what I can do. Anything else you need in the meantime?"

"Is Rythian all right?" Lalna asked.

The nurse looked over at them, frowning, then threw a questioning glance at Nano.

"Well?" Nano prompted.

"Who's Rythian?" the nurse asked her.

"He was in the other ambulance," Lalna said. "He's Powered. He carries a surface voltage of up to ninety-thousand volts."

"Oh, yeah, the fr—er, him," said the nurse. "Afraid I can't tell you anything. Hippocratic oath, all that."

"He's our friend," Lalna said.

Again, the nurse looked to Nano.

"Anything you can tell us," she requested, though her blood was starting to boil.

"He was in stable condition last I heard," the nurse said. "But I can't tell you anything other than that. Sorry. I'll have a look 'round for your clothes, Miss Sounds."

"Doctor," Nano corrected.

The nurse raised her eyebrows and inclined her head. "Dr. Sounds, sorry. I'll be back in a few, hopefully with your clothes. Anything else I can get you while I'm out?"

"Some water would be nice," Nano said.

"Gotcha," said the nurse, and gave her a thumbs up, and ducked back out into the hall, closing the door gently behind her.

"What an asshole," Nano muttered, glaring at the door.

"She's bound by ethics laws," Lalna said. "All medical professionals are."

"Not that," said Nano. "I _get_ that. I'm talking about her treating you like you weren't . . . I dunno, _real."_

Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"I don't understand," they said.

"Just—" Nano began, and broke off, waving a hand irritably. "I'll explain later, all right? I'm angry right now and I don't want to make you angry, too."

"Okay," said Lalna, nodding.

A few minutes passed in silence, while Nano simmered down and Lalna sat with their hands folded in their lap, their eyes still white with fear.

There was another quiet knock at the door, and a different nurse poked his head in.

"Dr. Sounds?" he asked.

"Yes?" she said impertinently.

"There's someone here to see you. Dr. Xephos from YogLabs?"

"Oh for _fuck's_ sake," Nano grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Of course he's here. Fine, let him in."

The nurse nodded and ducked back out, closing the door behind him.

"If he hasn't brought me a change of clothes," Nano said darkly, "I'm going to throw him out the window."

"There isn't a window in this room," Lalna pointed out.

"I'll _make_ one," she growled.

A bare minute later, the door opened and Xephos breezed in, tablet in hand, his hideous honeycomb-patterned tie askew.

"Good grief," he said, with eyes for Lalna alone. He hurried over and began poring over them, manipulating their head and limbs with gentle touches to examine every bit of them.

"I am undamaged," Lalna reported, while Xephos rolled up the sleeves of their lab coat and examined their laser rifles. The cuffs of the coat, Nano noticed, were singed.

"Yes, yes," Xephos said, "a few scuffs here and there, nothing major it looks like. Good _God,_ Lalna, what on _earth_ have you been doing?"

"Rythian was kidnapped," they said stiffly. "Nano and I rescued him."

"Kidnapped? By whom?"

"Nilesy," said Nano. "And his evil little _crew."_

"Nilesy?" Xephos asked, looking over his shoulder at her. "Who's Nilesy?"

"Mad bastard, stood up on top of a building and flooded the whole bloody city?" Nano prompted, folding her arms.

"Oh yes, him," said Xephos, waving a hand. He turned back to Lalna. "And what possessed you to run off on your own?"

"Rythian was in danger," Lalna answered.

_"Rythian_ was, was he? And what's so special about Rythian, that you had to defy all protocol and go gallivanting off on your own without direction or permission?"

"I waited for Nano," Lalna said, their voice gone small and apologetic.

"Well, at least that's _something,"_ said Xephos. He rounded on Nano. "And why did you find it necessary to take my five-hundred-billion dollar robot on a merry unauthorized chase across the city?"

Nano bristled.

"They aren't _your_ robot," she snapped.

"Yes, _he_ is," Xephos said testily. "And I'm waiting for an answer."

Nano's hands clenched on her arms, and she had to struggle with herself to keep from oozing acid from her skin.

"Rythian was in danger," she said through gritted teeth.

Xephos threw up his hands in exasperation and rolled his eyes. "The way the both of you go on about this _Rythian_ character, you'd think he was all that and the kitchen sink," he said. "Maybe I should just ask _him,_ hm? Why is it the two of you have decided to go completely mad over him?"

"We have _not—"_ Nano began hotly.

"You've known him all of two weeks," Xephos interrupted. "Is that correct?"

"Well—well yes, but—"

"And yet, for whatever reason, you suddenly decide to ignore all protocol and go chasing off after him in the middle of the night?"

"It wasn't—"

"Would you care to explain?"

_"I've been trying to,"_ Nano growled, glaring daggers at him.

Xephos folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "All right," he said. "Do tell."

Nano took a deep breath to compose herself, and then told the whole story, from when she had gotten back home after the meeting to when the paramedics had arrived. Xephos listened in silence the entire time, tapping one foot on the floor. When she had finished, he continued to stand still for several seconds.

"Lalna," he said, his voice pensive. "Please go back to your lab and wait there. I'll bring Nano home presently. Two of my people are outside; they'll escort you home and wait with you until we arrive."

"Okay," said Lalna, getting to their feet. Their eyes were a deep, unhappy purple.

"Why're you sending them away?" Nano demanded.

"Because I dislike having _him_ out in public," Xephos answered, putting sharp emphasis on the pronoun. "He isn't ready for public appearances yet. Clearly. It's bad enough the mess you've made already, I don't need you making it any worse."

Lalna's eyes darkened further, and they hung their head. They shuffled out, moving slowly and making as little noise as possible. Xephos watched them go, impassive, and Nano glared as hard as she could at Xephos.

Once the door had clicked closed, Nano stopped trying to suppress her anger.

"What in the _hell_ is wrong with—" she began.

Xephos darted to her bedside and grabbed up her hand, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, his whole body fairly vibrating with excitement.

"He's developed an emotional connection to Rythian, hasn't he," he said, breathless. "Tell me _everything._ How did affect his performance? Is it romantic? Platonic? Sexual? Oh, God, please not that last one, I've woefully underprepared him for that—"

"What—let _go_ of me," Nano said, yanking her hand back. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"His anger response!" Xephos cried, jigging in place. "Disproportionate on all counts! And such single-minded determination, my God, the efficiency of it! I can't believe it's _worked!_ Unforeseen circumstances of course, but you can't have _everything_ go to plan, or it wouldn't be science—"

_"Plan?_ What _plan?"_

"Oh, yes, he was _supposed_ to fall in love with _you,"_ Xephos said, waving a hand dismissively and turning away to pace the room. "But this will do! God, yes, this'll do fantastically! Rythian—where is he, I've _got_ to talk to him."

Nano's jaw had dropped, and she was staring at Xephos in mute disbelief.

"I—I? _Me?"_ she managed at last. "Lalna was—supposed to—to fall in _love_ with me?"

Xephos waved a hand. "Yes yes, but it hardly matters. What's important is—"

"I'm a _lesbian!"_ Nano cried, her voice squeaking with indignation.

He tossed a patronizing look at her.

"No one ever said you had to love him _back,"_ he said. "Good God, I can't believe it's finally _worked._ Just when I'd given up hope. How were his morals? You mentioned he was talking a lot of violence, that's a promising sign—"

"Get out of my room," Nano interrupted, seething with fury.

"What? Why? We've only just started talking—"

"Get _out_ of my _room,"_ she repeated. The paper gown draped over her shoulders began to smoke slightly.

Xephos blinked at her. "Well," he said. "All right. If you insist. But perhaps at a later date we could—"

_"Out!"_ she screamed. Xephos jumped and pressed a hand to his heart. His eyes darted for a moment, and his lips struggled to form a word.

"Well—well! Fine! Yes, well, I'll just—"

He fumbled the door open and stepped out into the hall, still waffling endlessly, looking shocked and baffled. Nano glared at him until the door had closed between them and the clicking of his shoes on tile had faded to silence.

Then she put her hands over her face and tried to calm down before she dissolved the bed.

 


	10. Chapter 9

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Just outside Nano's hospital room, a pair of women greeted Lalna. One was tall and broad, with a mane of curling brown hair and some kind of fur pelt draped over her shoulders; the other was petite and wore colorful clothes and a pair of dark glasses. Her hair was bright red, and she greeted Lalna with a smile.

"Hiya!" she said brightly, extending a hand. "I'm Zoey."

Lalna shook the woman's hand robotically. Most of their systems were in shut-down, including the interpersonal software.

"Fiona," said the other woman, extending her hand as well. Lalna shook it in turn.

"Lalna," said Lalna.

"Great to meet you!" Zoey chirped. "So, um, we're with the Division, right, and we're here to take you back home, only we don't really know where your home is, so you're probably going to have to tell us so we can actually get you there. I hope that's okay. I really wish Xephos had told us where we were going, he always does have to complicate things."

"I can provide the address," Lalna said.

"Oh! Great! That'll work great. We've even got a car, isn't that cool? C'mon, we'll show you!"

Zoey turned and hurried off down the hospital's halls. Fiona looked after her, shaking her head.

"She's a bit excitable," she said. "We'd best keep up."

"Okay," said Lalna.

They went out to the parking lot, and Zoey led the way to a black sedan, parked just outside the ER. Fiona got into the driver's seat, and Zoey climbed into the back with Lalna. Lalna gave Fiona the address of Nano's lab, she plugged it into her phone, and the three of them set off.

"So!" said Zoey, as they pulled out into traffic. "We've never really met before, but we've heard lots and lots about you, and I've just got to say, it's really cool to actually, like, meet you."

"Thank you," said Lalna, keeping their face turned straight ahead.

"Oh," said Zoey. "Um. Okay, great! Well. Great. Um. Ssssooo. . . . So I guess, um, Fi and me work with the Division—I said that already, didn't I, um, oh—"

Lalna looked them both up in the Division's employee database.

"You are Zoey Proasheck and Fiona Saberial," they reported. "Division employees since April, two-thousand and thirty. Fiona is a dynamic ursine bimorph and you are a photokinesthete. You have sixty-two successful missions together on record and only seven documented failures. You have no recorded prior involvement with Section L, from which I conclude that the reason you were chosen to escort me is because you are acquainted personally with Xephos."

For a moment, there was silence in the car.

"Babe?" Fiona said thinly. "What's a _dynamic_ _ur-sign bi-morph?"_

"Means you can turn into a bear, babe," Zoey answered, her voice just as thin. "Um, sorry, um, but . . . how did you know all that?"

Lalna shrugged. "It's in your files," they answered. "There's more. I didn't think it was relevant to the conversation."

"Oh," said Zoey. "Um. Well that's . . . good? I guess?"

"Is that all just sitting about in a file?" Fiona asked. "Where anybody can look at it?"

"No," said Lalna. "Only other Division employees can access the database."

"And you," Fiona pointed out.

"Yes," Lalna allowed. "And me."

"That's um . . . sort of concerning," said Zoey. "Just a bit. Um."

"You weren't aware?" Lalna asked.

"No," said Fiona.

"Nope," Zoey agreed. "I mean, I knew we were in the database, I just didn't like, know there was that _much_ in there. I thought it was just like, our names and maybe how long we'd been working there. How—um, just out of curiosity, how much _is_ in there? The database? About us?"

"Each employee's file is between ten and thirty megabytes."

"That's not _so_ bad," said Fiona. "Er, right?"

"I don't _think_ so," said Zoey. "Um. What's that in like, pages?"

"Fifteen to forty pages, approximately," Lalna answered. "Figures, tables, and images included."

Again, there was a brief moment of silence. Zoey adjusted her dark glasses. Fiona cleared her throat.

"Oh," said Zoey. "That . . . _is_ actually kind of a lot."

"Um, just out of curiosity," Fiona said. "Who's in charge of the database?"

"Section L," said Lalna.

"Ah. Hm. So—so Xephos, then."

"He is the section supervisor," Lalna allowed.

Zoey fidgeted in her seat and pushed her glasses up again. "Maybe we should, um, talk with him. About this. Thing. Is it—sorry, is it _everyone_ who's got a file like that?"

"Every Division employee," Lalna answered.

"Right. Okay. That's . . . okay. And only Division people can see it? A-and you, also, you can also see it, but apart from that?"

"The information is password protected and quintuple-encrypted," Lalna answered. "It's highly unlikely it can be accessed by unauthorized users."

"Well, that's _something_ at least," Fiona sighed. She pulled off the main thoroughfare and onto the street where Lalna and Nano's lab was located.

At first glance, it didn't look like a state-of-the-art scientific facility; in fact, it looked like someone had taken a perfectly normal suburban home and dropped it off on the sidewalk, wedged it in between a pair of office buildings and left it there with a pat on the head. It had a recessed doorway and steepled eaves, purple window shutters and a homey white facade; the only exterior hint to its true identity was the advanced electronic lock on the door, accessible only by Lalna's systems or Nano's fingerprint.

A passerby could not tell, for example, that the windows were made of reinforced glass and could be locked down with sliding steel plates at the push of a button.

Fiona pulled into the driveway and parked. All three of them got out of the car, and Lalna let them into the house.

The interpersonal software finally rebooted, and made a couple of recommendations based on protocol.

"There is plenty to eat and drink in the kitchen," Lalna said. "Please feel free to help yourselves. Also please do not touch any of the machinery, some of it is very delicate."

Zoey, who was already peering at the 3-D printer and its arrayed computers, hurriedly clasped her hands behind her back.

"Thanks," said Fiona. "Kitchen would be where?"

Lalna pointed, and she went straight there. There was a sound of someone rummaging through cupboards.

"If it isn't too much trouble," Lalna said to Zoey, "do you think you or Fiona could bring a change of clothes to Nano? She was uncomfortable not having her clothes, and didn't want to leave without them."

"Hm? Oh. Um, yeah, I'm not sure about that. Xephos really did want us to stay with you 'til he got here." Zoey shrugged and pulled a face. "I'm really sorry. I just don't want to get in trouble, is all?"

Lalna ran a puzzlement routine. "Xephos doesn't have any authority over you," they pointed out.

"Well—well yeah, but he is sort of, like, y'know . . . I mean the Director really _listens_ to him, and if he, like, puts in a bad word, it sort of . . . gets round, right? Besides, I'm sure Dr. Sounds will be okay! I mean, Xephos is with her, after all, and she's, y'know, amazing."

Fiona wandered back in from the kitchen, sipping on a grape soda. She put her elbow on Zoey's head and leaned on her.

"Going on about the Great Dr. Sounds again?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! D'you think we'll get to meet her?" She turned to Lalna. "Only, it's just, we've never _actually_ gotten to meet her, and she's sort of like a—a big deal, y'know, what with everything and all—"

"First woman in the Division, all that," Fiona added helpfully.

"And she's got like, _three_ PhD's and she's brilliant and really, really cool and oh, d'you think we'll get to meet her? Please please tell me we'll get to meet her, please?"

"She's sort of . . . the whole reason we're even _in_ the Division," Fiona said.

"Mm, mm!" Zoey agreed, nodding vigorously.

"She'll be here at some point," Lalna said, somewhat nonplused. "Xephos said she would return here with him."

Zoey made a high-pitched, squealing noise and bounced up and down. She hugged Fiona, who patted her on the back.

"Um," said Fiona. "I probably shouldn't ask, but . . . why _were_ you in hospital?"

"I was required to stay with Nano," Lalna answered.

Zoey gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth. "Oh no!" she cried. "Oh, no, she's not hurt, is she? Oh my goodness, I didn't even think—"

"She's mostly undamaged," Lalna answered. "One of her ribs was broken and she suffered minor burns from Rythian's electrical discharge."

The can of grape soda fell out of Fiona's hand and bounced on the floor, dumping purple fizz everywhere. Both women had frozen in place, staring at Lalna with their mouths open.

"Ryth— _Rythian?"_ Zoey whispered, her eyes wide and gleaming.

Lalna ran a puzzlement routine. "Yes," they said. "I assume from your reaction that you know him."

"Oh my God," Zoey said. Unsteadily, she made her way to a chair and sat down. Fiona came with her and put her hands on her shoulders. Zoey put her head in her hands.

"Oh my God," she said again.

Lalna ran another puzzlement routine, but said nothing.

"Is he—was he—" Zoey said, her voice attenuated.

"Is he all right?" Fiona asked, squeezing Zoey's shoulders.

"I don't know," Lalna answered candidly. Their various softwares threw up a complicated tangle of requests for emotional responses. Lalna accepted all of them, let them run, and shrugged. "One of the nurses informed us he was in stable condition."

"He's here," Zoey muttered to herself. "He's really, actually _here._ And alive, and—and everything. Oh my God."

"You know him," Lalna said again, since she was evidently having trouble processing the situation.

"Babe?" Fiona said quietly, leaning down.

Zoey took a deep breath and sat up slowly.

"Yeah," she said, and cleared her throat. "Yeah, I . . . I know him."

Lalna crossed to her and sat down on the floor at her feet, putting their hands on their knees and facing her attentively.

"Please tell me everything," they said.

Zoey blinked down at them. "Um?" she said.

"I want to know about him," they said. "Please, tell me everything."

"Is this for your . . . database, thing?" Fiona asked cautiously.

"No," said Lalna.

"I . . . well, I mean, it was a long time ago—years, really—before I got to the Division even. . . ."

Lalna nodded, recording every word.

"It was . . . well, we—we lived together," said Zoey, and shrugged. "There's not really much more to it than that. Um. Just—just out of curiosity, is he still—does he still—"

She put a hand up to her face, covering her mouth and nose.

Lalna ran a puzzlement routine. "I don't understand," they said.

"The—the thing," Zoey explained. "To help him sort of breathe?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "His friend made it for him. From things lying around in her closet."

Zoey made a quiet, high-pitched noise and pressed her fingertips to her lips. She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yeah!" she breathed. "Yeah, that was me! I made it for him, out of just—just junk! And—and he's still wearing it? He's still . . . he hasn't replaced it or anything?"

"It requires frequent repairs," Lalna told her. "But he didn't want a replacement when I told him the Division could provide one."

"Of course he didn't," Zoey muttered. She reached back over her shoulder and took Fiona's hand, squeezing it. "Of course he didn't, the silly . . . silly person." She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"All right, babe?" Fiona asked.

"Yeah, I'm . . . yeah," said Zoey. She shook her head, smiling.

Fiona squeezed her hand, then looked to Lalna. "Listen, I'm sorry I . . . sort of spilled soda all over your floor. Have you got something I could clean it up with?"

"Yes," said Lalna.

There was a moment of silence that the interpersonal software informed him was awkward.

"Um. Where . . . would it be?" Fiona prompted.

"Oh," said Lalna. "Yes. I'll show you."

They got up and showed her to the cleaning supplies, hidden away under the sink in the kitchen. She thanked them and set about cleaning up the spilled soda. Lalna returned to Zoey and sat down at her feet again.

"D'you still want me to talk about Rythian?" she asked, regarding him with markers of both happiness and sadness on her face.

"Yes, please," said Lalna.

Zoey sighed and wiped her eyes again. She sniffled, then sat back and wrapped her arms around her middle.

"Well," she said, "there's not a whole lot to tell, honestly. This was, oh, ages ago, probably like, five or six years. I was still living in Ilford then, and it was like, super late and I was on the way home and I just sort of . . . found him, I guess. All huddled up and freezing—oh, 'cause it was the middle of January—and I sort of, y'know, asked if he was all right, and it just sort of . . . went from there. He seemed, y'know, not scary, and I gave him a couple of pounds for like, a hot chocolate, but it was so cold out and he really didn't seem well so I took him home and let him sleep on my couch, and, well, he just sort of stayed there. For like two years."

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "On your couch?" they asked.

"Well, I mean, not _all_ the time, he got up to like, do stuff," Zoey said. She was blushing, and looking at anything except Lalna. "And he didn't exactly, like, work, but he got money somehow and I never really asked 'cause I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but he paid half the rent and everything and he was always super nice and, y'know, I made him the face thingy and everything because he couldn't breathe right, especially when it rained, and he had this weird thing where he would come home really ill at night but he'd be okay again in the morning but he always said it was nothing to worry about and it was just part of his Power stuff, and . . . yeah. I mean we lived together for like two years and it was all fine and good, but then I got into the Division and I moved out and I just sort of . . . never heard from him again."

"You left him there?" Lalna asked.

"No, well, no, not exactly," said Zoey, fidgeting. "I mean, the lease sort of ran out, and he said he was going to renew it but I sort of knew he wasn't because he still didn't really have an actual job and they needed like, proof you're employed and stuff, but he said he would be fine and he was really nice about it and told me not to worry and I asked if he wanted to come with me here but he said no, because he was fine and he really liked Ilford and it was all just fine and, y'know, I believed him? But I was always kind of worried that maybe he wasn't okay because I never heard from him again after that and I actually kind of forgot he was even, like, a person who's real and exists, and just . . . I'm just really, really glad he's okay. And I'm sort of wondering, y'know. Why he's . . . here. Um."

Lalna nodded, saving the information to parse out thoroughly later.

"He's homeless," they told her. "He's sleeping on _our_ couch now."

"Aw, that's _adorable,"_ Fiona cooed, coming over to stand by Zoey again. "He's found a new family."

"Babe, he's not a dog," Zoey said, pouting up at her.

"He's a _bit_ of a dog, honestly," Fiona told her.

"Well—well, but he's a _cute_ dog," she said. "Like a puppy!"

"Oh, so we're back to the puppy thing."

"No, no we're not _back to the puppy thing,_ psh, what _puppy thing?_ I haven't got a puppy thing, nope, not me."

"You've been doodling them on _everything,_ babe."

"Yeah? And? I know we can't get one, it's not like I'm moping about asking for a puppy, it's not like it's a _thing."_

Lalna watched them as they talked, soaking in every detail of their posture and tone, the way they held each other's eyes, the casual touches of hand and shoulder. The interpersonal software started sending up blank requests, just empty bits of code with no purpose or meaning, eating up processing power for no discernible reason. Lalna ran a disappointment routine, in case that was what the software wanted—it seemed appropriate, for whatever reason. The volume of requests decreased slightly, but they kept coming anyway, hollow and strange.

Fiona looked up halfway through a sentence and noticed Lalna.

"Hey," she said quietly. "Are you all right?"

"I . . . don't know," they answered. "I think I may need to reboot."

Zoey and Fiona looked at each other.

"I mean, we'll be here," Zoey said. "If you need to go . . . like, reboot. Or whatever. It sounds like you've had a bit of a difficult day, anyway. Fi and me can entertain ourselves."

"We'll come get you when Nano and Xephos get in," Fiona added.

Lalna nodded. "I think that sounds . . . appropriate," they said. "I'll be in my room. Please send Nano to get me when she comes home."

Zoey nodded and gave them a thumbs-up. "Gotcha," she said.

Lalna got up and took themselves to their room, shutting the door quietly behind them.

Their room was cluttered, but well-organized; there was simply too much _stuff_ in it for it to be considered clean or neat. Lalna, of course, knew where everything was, and since they were the only one who ever used it, they saw no problem with the arrangement.

The walls were covered floor-to-ceiling with shelves, and the shelves held all manner of items. There were photographs of places Lalna had never seen, souvenirs from shops they had never been to; there were rocks from the desert and from the mountains and from the bottom of the sea; there were posters of outer space and models of the solar system, cheap little magnetic toys that spun aluminum rocket ships around plastic planets; there were gaudy fiber-optic lights and tacky novelty lamps and a disco ball suspended from the center of the ceiling. On the floor was a huge jigsaw puzzle, half-completed, over five thousand pieces depicting a complex black-and-white maze. There were folded quilts and blankets of all sizes and patterns and textures, a nearly-finished bottle tree with every bottle a different color and shade of glass, a vase of shoddily crafted metal flowers that had been bent into shape by Lalna's own hands.

Shoved into a corner, the only piece of furniture that had been in the room when it had been given to Lalna, was their stasis chair. It was a tall metal structure, designed to house their body when they were in sleep mode. It was, Lalna had decided, basically just a shorthand way of communicating to humans that Lalna had not simply fallen over and shut down. It was a signpost stating: _I am not dead._

They picked their way through the clutter and settled into the chair, placing their arms on the armrests and setting their feet into their allotted spaces. They made a few minor adjustments of posture and set their head back against the headrest.

Then they entered sleep mode, and all the chatter in their system went thoroughly, achingly quiet.

* * *

 

_"Lalna."_

They rebooted, coming back online over the course of twenty long seconds as all their various processes spun back up. Xephos was peering into their face, his head tipped to one side, his hands on his own knees.

"Good morning," Xephos greeted them.

"Good morning," Lalna replied. They quickly checked their internal clock—they had been in sleep mode for two hours and four minutes.

Xephos straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back. Lalna remained seated, unsure what was expected of them.

"Nano's explained some things to me. On the car ride here. She was . . . a bit upset with me, I think, for sending you home without her."

"I see," Lalna said carefully.

"I was hoping you might be able to fill in a couple of gaps?" Xephos said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," said Lalna. "My event logs are complete and up-to-date."

_"Ex-_ cellent!" said Xephos, smiling. "Do you mind if I sit down? You needn't get up, of course, if you don't want to."

"Okay," said Lalna.

Xephos looked around for a moment, chewing his lip, and finally set himself down delicately on the edge of Lalna's little dresser, managing not to disturb a single item. He crossed his legs and folded his hands on his knee.

"Tell me about what happened with Nilesy and Panda," he said.

"We arrived at the warehouse at eight forty-two p.m.," Lalna reported. "I heard Nilesy speaking inside and Nano instructed me to enter. The situation inside—"

Xephos waved a hand, shaking his head. "Yes, yes, I know all that. I'm sorry, poorly phrased question. Please tell me, Lalna, why you didn't use lethal force when it had been authorized."

Lalna hesitated.

The absolute truth was, they didn't know. It had been the most efficient option available to them—they could have killed both Nilesy and Panda in less than three seconds, once they had properly calculated and adjusted for Panda's speed—and they hadn't taken it. It would undoubtedly have saved Rythian's life—since Nilesy was the one holding the water in the tank—and they hadn't done it. It was what they were designed to do, and they had discarded the idea, and both Rythian and Nano had been seriously injured because of it.

"It did not seem necessary," they lied.

"Didn't it?" Xephos asked. "Why not?"

Lalna shifted. The interpersonal software was sending up guilt requests rapid-fire. They were not supposed to lie, and especially not to Xephos.

"I was able to handle the situation without loss of life," they said.

"Yes, that's clear," said Xephos. "But _why_ did you choose to do so, Lalna?"

They fidgeted.

"I . . . didn't want to kill them," they admitted.

"Can you tell me why not?"

They shrugged. "They are people. Like Nano, and like Rythian, and like you. They are alive, and . . . I did not feel prepared to take that from them."

There was a sense of relief from letting the truth slip. The pressure of guilt from the interpersonal software subsided.

"Lalna," Xephos said softly. "Do I have your full attention?"

"Yes," said Lalna.

"It's . . . a lovely sentiment, Lalna," he said. "And, unfortunately, painfully naïve. Nilesy and his accomplices, and those like them . . . they _aren't_ people. Not like you and me. They're monsters, Lalna. Monsters who cannot be shown sympathy, who cannot be given any quarter, because they will use it to hurt. They will use it to destroy. They will use it to kill. There is no merit in their lives; only harm. I understand why you were reluctant to kill them, I really do. It's admirable. Childish, but admirable. I want you to know that, although I am disappointed with your failure, I am _not_ disappointed with _you._ You did the best you could, working with the limited knowledge you had, and for _that,_ I am very, _very_ proud of you, Lalna."

Lalna sat in silence for several moments, replaying these remarks over and over internally, storing and parsing and absorbing them.

"Thank you," they said quietly. Several different processes were requesting several different emotions, from pride to sadness, and Lalna simply let them all run.

Xephos reached out and clapped them on the shoulder, his hand strong and reassuring.

"I'm sorry that I sent you away earlier," he said, "and I'm sorry if, at any point, you thought that I was unhappy with you. I reacted poorly, and I'm sorry for that."

Lalna nodded. "I forgive you," they said.

Xephos smiled, taking his hand back and folding it onto his knee. "Thank you. _In_ the future, though, if you wouldn't mind letting me _know,_ just briefly, if you're planning to run off on some kind of mission? Just a quick notification, so that I know where you are and can send backup if necessary. I should hate to lose you, Lalna."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'm sorry I disobeyed protocol."

"In this case, Lalna, it's perfectly all right. It was a noble thing to do, if a bit misguided. At this point, I'm glad you did."

Lalna ran a puzzlement routine. "Why?" they asked.

"Well, you know, as a field test, this was really quite informative!" He paused, cleared his throat, then went on, "And, aside from that, there is the small matter of Rythian and you."

The interpersonal software requested an embarrassment routine, which Lalna rejected quickly. Another six thousand requests volleyed up immediately after.

"I see," Lalna said.

"I want you to know," Xephos said, "that you have my full support. And that, if there is . . . ever anything you—you require more information on, I would be more than happy to provide it. However I can. Ahem. I would not recommend turning to the internet in this particular case."

Xephos was, Lalna noted, actually blushing.

"Okay," said Lalna.

"Just . . . well, I hadn't really anticipated anything of this—this—this _caliber,_ and there are . . . certain things I know I haven't prepared you for—"

A flash of inspiration burst through Lalna's system. "You're talking about sex," they concluded.

Xephos's eyes got very large, and his blush deepened. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, raising his eyebrows.

"Ah! Yes, you—you seem to have hit the nail on the head, yes, that is, in fact, what I was, ahem. Talking about. Good! Well, so you know about that, then."

Lalna nodded. "Nano explained it to me. She also warned me not to investigate on the internet." They allowed a low-level amusement routine to run. "I didn't listen."

Xephos put a hand over his mouth.

"Oh dear God," he whispered. "So you—you know . . . probably more than you should. Well! Good! I don't suppose I shall need to tell you anything, then, ah—"

"Nano said it is generally up to one's parents to give them _the talk,"_ said Lalna. "She said you would explain in more detail if it was required."

"Ahah, well, so, _did_ she? Fascinating, well, what an excellent thing it is that you won't be needing—"

"Are you my parent?" Lalna asked.

Xephos went very, very still. The muscles of his face tightened, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes. He swallowed, and got to his feet.

"No," he said. "No, I am not. And God forbid I ever should be."

"I'm sorry," Lalna said, confused and hurt.

Xephos put a hand over his face and dragged it down. He looked, suddenly, incredibly tired.

"You needn't be," he told Lalna. "It's just . . . I haven't got the best track record with children, and I would . . . I would prefer not to repeat the experience. I care very dearly for you, Lalna. But I cannot be your father."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I don't understand, but I won't ask further."

Xephos bowed his head and nodded. "Thank you," he said. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and sighed. "Well! Would you like to rejoin the party? Nano could use a friend to bail her out from her fangirls."

Lalna considered, thinking through the various probable routes of conversation, the topics and issues they would need to address.

It was a massive list of tangled subjects, and it promised to make for a long and effortful afternoon.

"I think I would like to go back to sleep," they admitted. "I'm sorry."

Xephos smiled at them and patted them on the head. "Quite all right, Lalna. I understand. I'm sure Nano will forgive you."

"Will you tell her I'm sorry?" Lalna asked, worried.

"Of course I will, Lalna."

"Thank you," they said. "I love you."

Xephos's face shifted into that peculiar mixture of happiness and sadness that it always adopted at those words. He leaned down and kissed Lalna's forehead.

"Love you, too," he said. "Sleep well, Lalna."

They nodded, and Xephos patted them on the head one last time before he picked his way back out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. Lalna settled back into their chair and prepared to re-enter sleep mode, storing all the dense connotations of the conversation to be parsed later on.

 


	11. Chapter 10

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"Um, Dr. Sounds? Hi, oh my gosh, hi!"

Nano stopped just inside the door, waiting for her brain to click into gear. She'd finally managed to get her clothes back from the hospital, and Xephos had driven her home in a company car.

There was a pair of women standing just inside, one short and bright, one tall and stolid. The shorter one had addressed Nano in a squeaking, enthusiastic voice, and was fairly vibrating with excitement; the taller one was blushing and fidgeting.

Behind Nano, Xephos shut the front door of the lab, then stepped up next to her with a smile on his face.

"Ah, yes, I don't suppose you three have formally met. Nano, may I introduce Miss Zoey Proasheck and Miss Fiona Saberial, Division field operatives and very good friends of mine. Zoey and Fiona, Dr. Nano Sounds, whose reputation, I'm sure, precedes her."

"Uh, hi," said Nano. She offered her hand, and Zoey and Fiona shook it in turn. Zoey's hand was shaking, and Fiona's grip was like a vice.

"It's—it's really good to actually, like, meet you," Zoey said. "Like, oh my gosh, we've heard so much about you, and you're like, the whole reason we actually got into the Division in the first place, like the whole reason we even tried, and we wouldn't even have met each other if we hadn't, and it's just sort of—like—oh my gosh—"

"You're basically our hero," Fiona mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Nano smiled, forcing sincerity into the expression even though all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

"Yeah?" she said. "Well, I'm honored. D'you mind if we sit down? Only it's been a bit of a day and I'd like to get off my feet, if that's all right."

"Oh! Yeah, of course, sorry," said Zoey.

Xephos put a hand on Nano's shoulder, his touch gentle.

"Before you get too deeply into this," he said. "Where's Lalna gone? I should check in on him."

Nano restrained herself from flinching, knowing Xephos would feel her do it.

"Right, of course!" said Zoey. "He's gone to his room. Not sure where that is, but—"

"I know where it is," Xephos said. "Thank you. I'll leave you ladies to it, shall I?"

"Thanks," Nano remarked, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes. Xephos squeezed her shoulder.

"Back in a bit," he said. "Do _try_ not to wear Dr. Sounds out too badly, ladies."

Zoey saluted crisply. "Yes, sir, Dr. Xephos sir!" she said. Fiona snorted and chucked her on the shoulder.

Xephos headed off into the house, and Nano went into the living room and sat down on one of the two arm chairs. Zoey and Fiona settled onto the far end of the couch.

"So," Nano said, dredging up enthusiasm from the muck filling her system. "You two are rather new to the Division, are you?"

"Not _terrifically,"_ Zoey said. "Just, y'know, we do lots of stuff out in public and stuff, so we don't really get to mix with the sort of higher-up people."

"There's a lot of standing about," Fiona said. "Loads of paperwork."

Nano smiled wryly. "I'm afraid you'll never get away from that, even if you end up in the upper echelons. God, the number of forms I've got to fill out, it's ridiculous."

"Ooh, yeah, I bet," said Zoey, nodding seriously. "What've they got you doing? Is it like, super cool sciencey research stuff? Like, making robot arms, or—or like cool gadgets and stuff?"

"I _wish,"_ said Nano. "No, right now I've made the mistake of doing my own research, which would be _fantastic,_ if it weren't such a pain in the neck."

"What're you working on?" Fiona asked, clasping her hands in her lap.

Nano rolled her eyes and sighed. _"Well,_ it's a bit complicated, really. I've been trying to work out how to synthesize a better bulletproof textile—based on spider silk, mostly—and I'll swear to _God,_ it's fighting back, it really is, because the damn fibers won't aggregate properly and they keep spontaneously rolling into nanoballs instead of polymerizing like they're supposed to, and I can't for the _life_ of me work out why. I even said to myself, I'm not a textile engineer, I should've stuck to robotics, but _no,_ I had to get ambitious." She smiled tightly. "It's been rather frustrating."

"Sounds really—frustrating, yeah," said Zoey. Next to her, Fiona had the glazed look that people tended to adopt whenever Nano mentioned the words _nanoball_ and _polymerizing_ too close together.

"Anyways," Nano said. "It's all part and parcel of working with new materials, and I'm doing a few projects for YogLabs, too, just to make sure they don't forget about me. Not sure about robotic arms, but we _have_ got a few gadgets in the works."

Zoey brightened, and Fiona seemed to pull back from the brink of zoning out entirely.

"Yeah?" said Zoey. "Like what? Can you tell us, or is it like, Top Secret?"

_"Ehh,_ not _top_ secret," said Nano. "I can't tell you any specifics, but it's got to do with grappling hooks."

"Oh. My. _Gosh,"_ Zoey said, looking like Christmas had come early. "Oh my _gosh,_ that's so cool! Will we—I mean, are we going to get grappling hooks? Like for real? That we can use in real life?"

"Can't tell you," Nano said, nodding. She winked. "It's a big secret."

Zoey squealed and hugged Fiona, who patted her on the back, smiling and shaking her head.

They chatted easily for a few more minutes, about their work for the Division and their various experiences in their different spheres, until Xephos came back from Lalna's room with an odd look on his face, as though he was in mild but chronic pain.

"How is he?" Zoey asked, as Xephos settled into the other armchair. Once again, Nano managed not to flinch, but only just barely. The misgendering was somehow worse, coming from Zoey.

"Confused," Xephos answered with a sigh, "and worried, and rather out of sorts. He'll be all right, I think, but the whole business has rather shaken him up. I don't blame him, of course; it's distressing even for me."

"Of course," Nano said.

Xephos shot a look at her that nearly took the skin off her cheeks.

"Astonishingly," he said sharply, "I _am_ actually concerned about Lalna's welfare, and having him vanish in the middle of the night and turn up the next morning _in hospital_ was not a particularly enjoyable experience."

"Well, no, it wouldn't be," Fiona said.

"Terrifying, probably," Zoey agreed.

Xephos smiled at the two of them.

"Well. It's all fine now. No harm done, hm? I really must thank you two for bringing him home. I would have done it myself, but there's only so many places I can be at once!"

"And . . . that's one," said Zoey. "Right?"

"Yes," said Xephos, clearly amused. "Just the one."

"Oh, good," she sighed, pressing a hand to her heart. "'Cause I don't think I could handle it if you had _another_ Power, good grief."

Nano saw Xephos's hands clench on the sofa, white-knuckled, and the way his eyes went sharp and cold.

"God forbid," he said, only the barest hint of anger in his voice.

"Right, yes, well!" Nano jumped in, leaning forward to attract Xephos's attention. "It's been a long day for everyone, and if it's all the same to you three, I think I'd like to get some rest, put the ice back on the old rib for a bit."

"Oh, gosh! Yeah, of course," said Zoey, getting to her feet hurriedly. Fiona followed suit. "Sorry, we've sort of been talking at you all afternoon, haven't we? I'm really sorry, gosh, I completely forgot you were, like, in hospital and everything!"

"It's fine," Nano told her. "Thanks for holding down the fort."

"Yeah, anytime!" Zoey said.

"It was our pleasure," Fiona confirmed.

"Um, so, I guess we'll just be going now?" Zoey said. She tossed a wary look at Xephos, who smiled at her.

"I'll be along," he said. "I just want to have a quick word with Nano. In private, if I may."

"Oh. Right," said Zoey. "Okay, well, we'll . . . see you round, I guess?"

"As often as I can be dragged away from work," said Xephos.

"So never, then?" said Fiona. Zoey laughed, and Xephos snorted, shaking his head.

"Entirely likely," he said.

Zoey turned back to Nano. "And . . . will we be, y'know, seeing you? Again? At some point?"

"We'll have you round for tea sometime," Nano promised. "When I've _not_ just been beaten up and electrocuted."

"That'd be good, yeah," said Zoey, blushing. "Okay! Well, goodbye then! Or, see you later!"

"Bye," said Fiona. "It was really great getting to meet you."

"Same to you," Nano said.

Smiling, hand in hand, the two women left. A silence eddied in their wake, knocking the flotsam of unsaid words against the walls.

"I believe I owe you an apology," Xephos said.

Nano recoiled slightly, taken aback.

"Okay," she said, wary.

"I was rather harsh with you," he said. "And . . . disrespectful of your—your personal choices."

"My identity," Nano corrected.

Xephos made a face and inclined his head.

"Yes, that . . . is rather more accurate. And it was wrong of me, and I am sorry. I'll try to be more considerate from here on."

Nano mulled this over for a moment, folding her arms.

"All right," she allowed. "I'll forgive you, this time. But don't do it again."

"Believe me, I have no plans to," Xephos said. "It's becoming increasingly clear that attempting to predict _anything_ Lalna's going to feel is an exercise in futility."

"I think what's clear is _you_ shouldn't try to play matchmaker."

He winced. "Harsh, but likely fair. I suppose I should relegate myself to curating whatever interests Lalna _does_ develop. Romantic or otherwise. He certainly has quite a _collection,_ hasn't he? I'd swear it wasn't that big last time I was here."

"It gets added to," Nano said diplomatically. "Lalna likes to pick up stray things."

"Oh, yes, speaking of Rythian," said Xephos, sitting forward. "I'm going to retrieve him in the morning. Shall I bring him back here afterwards?"

"I think he can find his own way back, if he'd like to," Nano said, switching conversational tracks smoothly.

"Well, certainly, but it might be rather uncomfortable for him, since they've thrown out his clothes and his respirator," Xephos replied. "But! I've inquired with the Director and the budget office and they've said they'd be delighted to cover his expenses, both medical and incidental. After I've gone to all the trouble of having him a new respirator made and a missions suit designed, I hope you'll permit me the pleasure of _giving_ all of it to him."

"You—when've you had time to do all that?" Nano demanded. "And why? He isn't Division, and he's _definitely_ not Section L. And how on _earth_ would you know how to make a proper respirator for him?"

Xephos arched an eyebrow at her. "It was all very clear in Lalna's report. Relative humidity below seven percent or arcing through internal airspaces begins; a hundred and ninety centimeters tall, approximately sixty-three kilograms, a thorough description of his Powers and . . . well, quite a few other details, many of which I'm sure don't interest you. It was honestly trivial. I've had a few interns on the respirator project for a little over a week now, and I must say, I'm impressed with what they've made. I think one of them has an art degree. It's quite chic."

"But _why?"_ Nano pushed. She found herself simmering with anger, her muscles strung tight and her heart pounding.

"Why? Because he's clearly in _need,_ Nano. Am I not allowed to provide for those who are less fortunate without some sort of . . . ulterior motive?"

"Not with Division funding," she said, before she could stop herself.

Xephos looked at her for two seconds longer than was comfortable.

"The Director," he said carefully, "is a very soft-hearted man."

"Now _that's_ a load of—"

He held up a finger, cutting her off. _"When_ approached correctly," he continued. "I am given to understand that Rythian has a certain prejudice against all things Division. I hope to convince him, through these acts of necessary kindness, that we are not his enemy. He would be a fantastic asset, and I should hate to lose him simply because of an irrational bias."

"And you're rather confident that'll work, are you?" she asked dryly. "Seeing as you've had a missions suit made for him."

"I thought it a gesture of good faith. He'll certainly be allowed to keep it, even if he turns down our offer. I can't imagine he'll want to be wearing a hospital gown for the foreseeable future, which is all they've left him with."

Nano opened her mouth to reply, then stopped, narrowing her eyes.

"How d'you know that?" she asked. "How d'you know they've thrown out his respirator and his clothes?"

Xephos waved a hand and pulled a face, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, I suppose I just pay attention to the little things. It's nice to have pet projects on the side of the real work. Rythian really is a _remarkable_ character, isn't he? Lalna certainly seems to think so. I'd hate to upset him by leaving his new friend out in the cold."

"All right," Nano said warily. "So why haven't you gone and got him already?"

He leveled a dubious look at her.

"Nano," he said. "Lalna has had a very trying day. He is, and always must be, my priority. Besides that, it's Sunday, and none of the interns are in, and I should hate to steal their project out from under their noses without any warning. Rythian will keep for a few more hours, I'm sure. Certainly he could do with a good night's sleep, after what he's been through."

"Oh. That . . . makes sense, I suppose." She fidgeted. "Look, sorry if I sounded a bit . . . accusatory, just there. I really wasn't trying to be—"

"No, no, it's fine," Xephos assured her. "I do have a terrible habit of neglecting to explain myself. I forget that my motivations aren't as obvious from the outside, ahah."

"Ahah," Nano agreed.

Xephos glanced at his watch, raised his eyebrows and sighed.

"Well! It's getting on, and Lalna seems to have situated himself firmly in sleep mode. I should probably be heading off, lovely as it's been talking with you."

"Yeah, of course," said Nano, sagging internally with relief. "Don't let me keep you."

"Oh, no, not at all," said Xephos. He put his hands on his knees and levered himself to his feet with a groan. "In all honesty, it's been a lovely excuse to take a few hours off. But! Things to do, you know, deadlines to meet. Never done with the science, are we?"

"Not for a moment," Nano agreed, starting to rise. Xephos waved a hand at her.

"No no, don't trouble yourself, I'll see myself out. Do let me know if anything comes up with Lalna, would you?"

She threw him a lazy salute. "As always," she said.

Smiling, he returned the salute, and left with a spring in his step. When he had gone, Nano sagged back against the armchair and rubbed her temples.

"God," she muttered to herself.

* * *

 

Lalna came back out of their room while Nano was eating dinner, moving slowly, their eyes a slightly purplish blue.

"Good morning," Nano said. "Have a good sleep?"

"Yes," they said. "I feel better. How are you?"

"Tired," said Nano. "But I'm all right. Xephos is bringing Rythian back from hospital tomorrow."

Lalna's eyes got noticeably greener. "He is?" they asked.

Nano smiled. "So he said. He's offering him a job with the Division. Apparently the Director's signed off on it and everything."

"That's good news!" said Lalna.

"I really hope so, Lal," Nano said.

Something flickered in her peripheral vision, as though a shadow had passed at high speed across the street light outside. She turned, looking over her shoulder, frowning.

"Did you see that?" she asked.

"Yes," said Lalna.

"What was it?"

They shrugged. "I don't know."

The back of Nano's neck was prickling. Slowly, she got up from her seat and moved to the window. With two fingers, she parted the blinds and peered out into the street.

It was a quiet night. There was almost no traffic on the road, and the sky was clear and starry. She couldn't see any pedestrians out. She dipped her head down to look at the offending street light, in case it decided to flicker again.

Just when she was deciding that it had been a figment of her imagination, she saw the gargoyle-like shape, silhouetted against the shimmering stars, starkly out of place in a familiar skyline.

"Lalna," Nano hissed, her heart hammering in her ears, eyes glued to the hulking, foreign _thing._ "There's something on the roof across the street!"

"What kind of something?" they asked.

"I don't know! It's got—wings, or something! I think it's watching us!"

Lalna was quiet for a moment. They got up and crossed to the window, reaching up a hand to part the blinds.

"No!" Nano cried, grabbing their hand. "No no, we can't let it know we've seen it."

"Why not?" they asked.

"Because it might—do something, I dunno! Can't you just use your thermal vision or whatever?"

"It's not very accurate for determining shape and form," Lalna pointed out. They paused, then said, "But there _is_ a heat signature on the roof across the street. Its body temperature is higher than is standard for a human, and I believe your description of wings was an accurate one."

"What do we do?" she asked.

"We don't seem to be in any immediate danger," Lalna pointed out. "Doing anything but observing further seems unnecessary."

Nano peeked through the blinds again. The figure was still there, hunched. A car went by and its headlights glinted briefly off of huge, round eyes. Nano's throat constricted and she took a quick step back.

"Can't we make it go away?" she said. "I'm never going to be able to sleep with it sitting there _staring_ at us."

"We could confront it," Lalna suggested. "It's doubtful it could hurt either of us seriously if we were working together. Even on my own, I believe I could neutralize it without being damaged."

Nano's stomach curled up, and she swallowed.

"No, that's . . . I don't think it's _that_ serious. Yet. Probably. It's just _creepy,_ is all."

"Why?" Lalna asked.

She gestured to the window. "Because it's _watching_ us! It feels wrong, like we're being—being _observed_ or something! Like we're little cells under a microscope!"

Lalna's head tipped to the side, their eyes going orange as they considered. "Is that abnormal?" they said.

"Yes, of course it—" Nano began, and stopped. She bit her lip and looked away, fidgeting. "I mean, it is for _me."_

"People are not usually observing you?"

"No, not—not really. I mean, y'know, there's reviews on my work and everything, but . . . yeah, I dunno. Not so much people watching _me."_

Slowly, Lalna's eyes rolled down to a vibrant, unhappy purple.

"I see," they said softly. "Only your performance on certain assigned tasks is scrutinized."

"Yeah," said Nano, shrugging awkwardly. "I . . . think I'm starting to get why this isn't freaking you out."

"Nano," Lalna said. "Will I ever get to live like you?"

She recoiled, taken aback by the question, and blinked at them, sputtering.

"I—well—I don't honestly know, Lalna," she said. "I should hope so. I mean, if you mean in terms of, will people stop watching you all the time, kind of thing."

"Yes," said Lalna. "You also have vacations. And friends. And I would like to go to bars and take walks and have a puppy and look at the stars and—"

They broke off suddenly, their eyes flickering. Their hands curled into fists at their sides, and they turned their head away.

"Lal," Nano said softly, reaching out to them.

"It isn't _fair!"_ they cried suddenly, their eyes snapping to red. "It isn't _fair!_ I don't want to be watched, I don't want to stay here, I don't want to do what Xephos tells me anymore!"

Nano shrank back. Her spine was tingling, that peculiar uncanny feeling she got every time Lalna decided to get emotional about something. She raised her hands, palms-out, in surrender.

"Okay," she said. "All right, I hear you. It's not fair, you're right."

"I didn't _ask_ to be made!" Lalna continued, in full tirade. Something inside them had started letting out a piercing whine that melted the wax in Nano's ears. "I didn't agree to this! I wasn't given a choice!"

"I know," Nano assured them. "I know, and it's horrible."

"I want to be ~~_normal_~~ _!"_ they cried, and their voice cracked, flanging with static. "I want to be _ee_ e normal like ~~you~~ and like Rythian and I wa ~~aa~~ ant to go _home_ _!"_

"Lalna, please calm down," she said. "You're shorting your systems—"

_"_ ~~ _Good_~~ _!_ I wan-an-ant to short out! I want to go _oo_ o home!"

"You—okay, okay! I hear you, I do. Where's home, Lalna? Will you tell me that? I want to help, will you please tell me where home is?"

As suddenly as if a switch had been flipped, all the fight went out of Lalna. They sagged, their eyes turning dark purple, their hands unclenching. Whatever had been letting out the piercing whine wound down and went quiet.

"Nowhere," Lalna said.

Nano swallowed, trying to relax. She reached out a trembling hand and touched Lalna's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I . . . was trying to make this a home for you. I'm sorry I haven't managed it."

They shook their head.

"Home was the place before the lights came on," Lalna said. "I can't go back. Xephos said."

Nano looked at them for a long, silent moment, her sinuses prickling with tears, a lump in her throat.

"Oh, Lalna," she said softly.

"You feel sorry for me," they said. "But you can't go back, either. You have this home, but you can't go back to the place before the lights came on."

"You're right," Nano said. "But, I'll be honest with you, Lal? I don't really want to. Here is okay. Here and now is okay. And it will get better for you. All right? Someday you'll . . . you'll have the life you want. I promise. You can make a new home. It works pretty well, or at least it has for me."

Lalna's eyes flickered again, and they nodded slowly.

"Thank you," they said. "I would like to go back to sleep, if that's all right. I'm clearly not better enough."

"Don't need my permission, Lal," Nano told them. "Do whatever you need to do to feel all right. I love you."

They hesitated, then put their hand over hers.

"I love you, too," they said, and moved away, shuffling their feet, still hanging their head.

When they had gone, Nano sat down on the couch and had a good long cry, weeping all the trembling fear out of her body.

* * *

 

Sometime around midnight, Nano woke up from a fitful nap. She had passed out on the sofa, curled up on her side with her hands under her head. She adjusted her position and tried to go back to sleep, but her skin was prickling with apprehension, her broken rib aching.

She glanced at the window.

"No," she muttered to herself. "Won't help."

After another adjustment and a good five minutes of pretending like she was falling asleep, Nano sighed to herself and got up, grumbling under her breath. She sidled over to the window and parted the blinds. The view outside was perfectly ordinary—dark and quiet and without a single shape out of place. Nano stopped, holding very still as she looked out through the blinds. The silhouette on the building across the street had gone, and she realized, with no small amount of chagrin, that she had stumbled right into what she called the _spider in the bathroom_ phenomenon.

It was a simple concept: while walking into the bathroom and seeing a large spider on the wall was _bad,_ coming back to the bathroom several minutes later and _not_ seeing the spider on the wall was downright paranoia-inducing.

She gulped, thinking through her options.

On the one hand, it was possible the thing had simply gone. Whatever it was, whatever its business had been, it had picked up and left with as little fanfare as it had arrived. On the _other_ hand, maybe it was on _their_ roof, now, hunched and staring, creeping around on the slanted tiles and looking for a way in.

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake," Nano hissed. She wrenched open the door and stepped outside before she could second-guess herself.

The pavement was cool under her feet, but the night was not a cold one. She walked out to the curb and turned around, glaring up at her own roof. There was nothing out of place on it. Her nerves, however, had not subsided, and she decided it was best to check the back, as well. She set off around the side of the house, where the shadows were draped thick and heavy. Her skin started prickling the moment she stepped off the pavement, and she glanced back over her shoulder, antsy. There was nothing behind her but the empty street. She sighed and shook her head, berating herself internally.

Suddenly and silently, something dropped down in front of Nano and grabbed her by the lapels, slammed her against the wall so hard it knocked her breath out. She dangled, stunned, staring at her assailant in horror.

It was a woman, with thin features and flowing blonde hair. A gigantic pair of tawny wings sprouted from her back, spotted and striped. Her eyes were weirdly large, perfectly circular, golden in color and unmoving in her face. She had the feet of a bird, taloned and huge, protruding grotesquely from the bottoms of her trousers.

"How did you find us?" she demanded, her voice a low and mellifluous alto.

"Who—who's us?" Nano squeaked, her throat constricted. She reached up to grab the woman's wrists, and the woman shoved her into the wall, lip curling. Nano froze while her shoulder blades bruised.

"Nilesy and Panda and Zylus. _How?"_ the woman snarled. Her teeth were small and flat, like a child's.

"Who w-wants to know?" Nano said, trembling.

The woman tilted her head back and forth sharply, examining Nano's face. Her eyes remained fixed in place, gleaming and doll-like.

"You'll tell me," the woman said, "or I'll kill you."

"Yeah?" Nano challenged, breathless. "Like to see you try, lady."

Carefully, she began pushing her power into her palms. There was a tingling sensation as the acidic slime beaded out from her pores.

The woman hurled her to the ground, and Nano landed hard on her shoulder. Her broken rib sent an arrow of pain shooting through her side. She scrambled to get up, the asphalt hissing where her hands touched it. A taloned foot came down on her chest, pinning her to the ground, one six-inch claw pressing delicately into Nano's throat, another resting its point just under her sternum, the other two curling against her collarbones. Nano froze again, scarcely daring to breathe. The woman's wings were spread wide above her, twitching as she maintained her balance, blotting out the whole sky.

"You're dead," the woman said. "How did you find us?"

"Still not telling you," Nano replied, though her voice was thin. Her heart was pounding, her pulse singing in her ears. She could barely feel her body around her, only the rush of adrenaline like a swift wind around her bones.

The taloned foot on Nano's chest tightened its grip ever so slightly. The rear claw pierced her skin, drawing out a bead of blood, and Nano yelped in pain. The woman's jaw was set, her fists clenched at her sides. Her huge eyes narrowed.

"I'll hurt you," she warned. "I'll carry you way up and drop you 'til you break."

Nano swallowed. The claw that was pressing into her throat scratched a shallow line into her skin.

"Why d'you want to know?" she asked, trying not to sound as terrified as she felt.

"None of your business," the woman said. "Tell me how you did it."

"I'm not—"

The other set of talons closed on Nano's right arm, their grip bruisingly tight. The woman's face was pale with rage. Her wings were waving up and down, folding and unfolding, working hard to maintain her balance now that both her feet were occupied with Nano. She was half as heavy as she should have been, considering her size.

"I'll pull your arm off," she said darkly.

Nano's blood ran cold, and her shoulder started to ache. Her whole arm was crawling and tingling, filled up with horror and the anticipation of pain.

"We—we just looked," Nano admitted, relenting. "We just looked. Lalna was watching the bar and then we found out about the guy's blog and we found his car and then we found the warehouse. O-okay? It wasn't special or anything, we just _looked,_ will you please _not_ pull my arm off? Please? I really need it, for things."

"Is he dead?" the woman asked, not loosening her grip at all.

"Is—is who dead?"

"Rythian."

"N-no," said Nano, too frightened to tell anything but the truth. "Not—I mean not that I know of."

The woman stared down at her for a long time, then stepped back, taking both taloned feet off of her.

"Lomadia," she said.

Nano lay still, heart in her throat, head spinning.

"What?" she said.

"That's my name," the woman explained. "Lomadia. What's yours?"

"It's . . . it's Nano," said Nano. "But—but why—"

"I'm really glad I haven't killed you, Nano," Lomadia said.

"I . . . um. I'm . . . really glad you haven't killed me, too?" Nano guessed. The stars were twinkling up above her, peering through tattered blankets of cloud. "D'you think you'll keep on . . . not killing me?"

"I hope so," said Lomadia. "Because I think you're really cute. Okay goodbye."

There was a massive gust of wind, kicking grit and dust into Nano's face as she sputtered and sat up. She got upright just in time to see Lomadia lift silently into the air, wings laboring at the air. She rose up above the rooftops, her hair buffeted around her face by the mute beating of her wings, and then she was gone, vanished into the night without a sound.

Nano sat staring up at the glittering sky, one hand pressed carefully to the shallow, trickling wound in her abdomen.

"Thanks?" she guessed at the empty air.

Slowly, shaking and floaty, she got to her feet and tottered back inside. She took a long, hot shower, cleaning her small wounds and rinsing the excess acid from her skin, replaying the conversation word-by-word in her head.

By the end, she had drawn but one conclusion.

She needed to speak with Lomadia again.

 


	12. Chapter 11

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Rythian woke with a start, gasping for breath and feeling as though a massive weight was pressing down on his chest. There was something jammed up into his sinuses and down his throat, all the way into his lungs, burning and itching against the tender membranes. He tried to rip it out, but it sent needles of pain shooting out in all directions, and he fell back, coughing.

Thus forced to hold still and think, he took stock of his surroundings.

He was in a hospital. He was alone. His wrists were thickly bandaged, and there was gauze wrapped around his ankles and taped to his biceps. There were rubber mats on the floor and several pairs of heavy-duty electrical gloves hung up on a rack by the door. They had taken his clothes and his respirator and left him in a thin paper gown. There was a shorted-out heart-rate monitor sagging forlornly in the corner, its plastic casing charred. They had not hooked him up to any other machines.

Slowly, every movement pulling a different strained muscle, Rythian sat up. His bones ached, and his abdomen was fiendishly sore, to the point that breathing was painful. The thing up his nose was connected to a plastic tube which was, in turn, connected to a small green tank.

Rythian sat staring at the tank for a long moment, while the air crackled against his skin and tiny sparks danced inside his lungs.

Carefully, he reached out and pulled the little cord next to the bed. Something went _ding._ He sat very still and waited.

Thirty seconds later, the door burst open and a pair of nurses rushed in. Rythian held up both hands, palms out, watching them intently. They stopped, slightly out of breath, and looked at each other.

"All right, mate," one said, folding her arms and cocking a hip out to the side. "That little dangly thing next to your bed? That's for _emergencies._ As in, you're dying sort of emergencies. Not 'cause you felt a bit lonely."

"I know what it's fucking for," Rythian snapped, sparks tickling over his scalp and up through his hair. He pointed to the green tank. "Is that a fucking oxygen tank?"

"Hey, cool it with the language," the other nurse said, scowling.

_"Is it a fucking oxygen tank?"_ Rythian repeated, his lip curling.

"Yes, it is," the first nurse said. "On account of you had fluid in your lungs and—"

"Get it out of here," he interrupted.

"No," the second nurse said. "You want pneumonia, you can contract it on your own time."

Furious, Rythian pointed to the burned-out heart monitor.

"Do you see that?" he demanded. _"That_ is what happened when more of you idiots didn't fucking _listen_ when I told you I have a skin-surface voltage of _eighty thousand volts._ In case it hadn't made it all the way through your thick fucking skulls: pure oxygen plus electricity equals _fucking explosions."_

The first nurse rolled her eyes.

"Look, mate," she said. "I'm sure you're very pleased with yourself over your basic chemistry knowledge, but we've got it handled. So long as you don't touch the tank, well then! You're fine, aren't you. We'll take it off you when you're discharged."

The second nurse snorted and put a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, quit, Chris," the first nurse said, smirking at her.

_"You_ quit, Beth."

Rythian stared at them, his blood boiling.

"And supposing I need to leave this bed?" he asked, his voice low and shaking with suppressed rage.

"S'pose you'd be out of luck," said Chris. "Don't worry, we'll check in on you. Change your sheets and all that."

_"Chris,"_ Beth said again, sounding horrified and delighted in equal measure.

"What? It's good to let him know." She turned to Rythian and smiled sweetly. "I'm sure generally nobody cleans up his messes and he's just got to sleep in them."

Rythian gripped the plastic frame of the bed with both hands, resisting the impulse to touch the oxygen tank and blow all three of them straight to hell.

"Are you done?" he said curtly.

Chris rolled her eyes and turned to go.

"Typical freak," she sighed. "Can't take a joke."

"Ought to be grateful," Beth agreed, shooting a barbed look at Rythian. "Probably the first time he's had a proper bed in months."

Rythian clenched his jaw and didn't rise to the bait, and the two nurses left, closing the door behind them. Carefully, he lay back, keeping his breaths slow and regular, though each one made his throat and sinuses burn against the thin plastic tubes. He closed his eyes and wrestled his swarming mind back under control.

To pass the time, he imagined what the hospital would look like in flames.

* * *

 

Eventually, after a few more hours of pain and increasing discomfort, Rythian pulled the tubes out of his nose. They dragged like fingernails through his insides and came out dripping with mucous, but once they were gone his throat and sinuses stopped hurting so much, and he tossed them away with no small amount of gratification.

He slipped out of bed on the opposite side to the oxygen tank and took a small, hobbling tour of the room. He was meticulous in touching every last electronic device he could get his hands on. In every puff of blue smoke, in every sizzling crack of burning wires, he pictured the faces of the two nurses.

It was incredibly satisfying.

With that done, he snuck out of his room and found a bathroom, then snuck back again. When a few more hours had passed without anything happening, he put on a pair of the heavy-duty rubber gloves and very carefully dragged the oxygen tank out into the hall, slimy tubes and all. He left it propped up against the wall just outside the door, and draped the tubes over the door handle.

After that, he hung the gloves up neatly, curled up in bed, and went back to sleep, smiling to himself.

* * *

 

"Oh, _Christ_ on a crutch."

Rythian opened his eyes and sat up, stretching and yawning. There was a haggard-looking nurse standing in the doorway, her hair frizzed, dark circles under her eyes. Rythian smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said.

"What've you done?" she demanded, staring around at the electronic wreckage stapled to the walls.

"I wasn't supposed to leave my room," Rythian answered easily. "Chained down by a life-saving oxygen tank, apparently. I got bored. Sue me."

"Believe me, we will," she snapped. "This is _tens of thousands_ of pounds' worth of equipment, do you even understand—"

"Yes," said Rythian, smug. "Sue away. Incidentally, did you know they feed and house you in prison? For _free?_ Incredible, really."

He neglected to mention that what they did _not_ do in prison was put silver manacles on people to prevent them from simply teleporting out when they got tired of the hard manual labor.

"Well _someone's_ going to pay for this," the nurse told him. "You'll be hearing from our lawyers."

"How?" Rythian asked. "Sorry, but we don't have wifi at Soggy Cardboard Box Number Three."

"All right, that's _it,"_ the nurse snarled. "I've had it with you uppity freaks and your smug attitudes. You want to cause a mess, _fine._ I'm taking this to YogLabs and _they_ can deal with you. _And_ pay the bills. Christ knows _someone's_ got to."

Rythian's heart stopped.

"No—no no no, don't do that, that's not necessary—" he gabbled, scrambling up out of his bed.

The nurse stepped out and slammed the door behind her, and there was a _click_ as she locked it. Rythian darted over and yanked on the knob anyway, realizing half a second too late that if the nurse was still touching it, she would die instantly.

When there was no awful concussion, no sudden gasping snatch at his voltage, Rythian went on yanking on the doorknob, rattling it furiously. He braced one foot against the wall and jerked on the door with all his might, hoping to break the latching mechanism, but to no avail. He cursed and kicked the door, then stormed over to the bed.

"Breathe," he told himself. There were sparks skittering in his lungs, making the task a difficult one. He managed to calm down eventually, hands clenched on the bed frame.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. Worse things have happened. No clothes. No respirator. Fine. We've dealt with worse. Don't know where the exit is, but there'll be signs. Shouldn't be too crowded. Move fast and security won't catch you."

He lifted his head and looked over at the wall, calculating.

"Three feet, straight across," he mumbled. "Hope nobody's standing there."

Slowly, he made his way back over to the door, standing a few inches away from it. He took another deep breath to center himself, and a huge spark leapt through his left lung, hitting him like a swift punch in the chest. He twitched, curling in on himself and pressing a hand to the point of sharpest pain. He clenched his jaw and breathed deeply again.

"Okay," he said. "So step one: find the fucking respirator."

Then he closed his eyes and poured all his voltage into the special little point just above his diaphragm.

There was a sense of being compressed, of being packed into a space much too small for him and suffocated. There was blinding darkness, and boiling heat, and motion so swift and sudden that it was like being jerked off his feet by a jet plane.

And suddenly he snapped back into being out in the corridor, dizzy and queasy, his body cold with lack of charge. He felt his internal dynamo spin into high gear to replenish his charge, accompanied by a steadily growing sense of fatigue. He caught himself up against the wall and took stock of his situation.

There were five people in the corridor, all staring at him with their mouths hanging open. One of them had dropped a tablet on the floor and its screen had shattered. There was an Exit sign at the end of the corridor, red and inviting, with an arrow pointing to the left.

"What the _hell—"_ one of the people in the hall began.

Rythian bolted. He dodged around the people in his path, leapt over the little puddle of broken glass, and sprinted full-tilt towards the Exit sign. His lungs were burning already, his limbs sore, but he pushed through and kept his speed up. Someone yelled—he didn't catch the words—and then he was tearing around the corner, eyes peeled for the next Exit sign.

He was in a second corridor, this one devoid of other people, and the Exit sign at the end of it had arrows pointing both ways. He took a right at the end, wheezing for breath and flagging already. The last time he'd eaten had been more than a day ago, and the ordeal in the warehouse had exhausted him.

Rythian came around the second corner and cannoned into someone full-force. The person cried out in alarm and caught hold of Rythian's forearms, stumbling back. Rythian staggered as well, fighting to keep his feet. He came to a stop half-supported by the unfortunate stranger's grip.

"Oh, my goodness, I _do_ beg your pardon—" the stranger said in a clipped, precise voice.

Their right hand, and only their right hand, loosened its grip on Rythian's arm.

Quick as thinking, Rythian grabbed the stranger's arms in both hands, his fingers lent bruising strength by desperation. He looked up into the stranger's face, panicking, a frantic explanation queuing at his teeth.

The stranger blinked down at him, glanced at the plastic identification bracelet on his wrist, and smiled. His mouth was framed by a neat goatee, his dark hair trending more towards salt than pepper. The traces of thousands of old smiles lined his face, giving him a happily weathered appearance.

His eyes were like blue diamonds, cold and lifeless.

"So you're the famous Rythian," he said.

Rythian's jaw dropped, and all the words that had piled up behind his teeth spilled out onto the floor, unspoken.

"I've heard a great deal about you," the man went on. "All of it good, I assure you."

"I—who—what—" Rythian stammered, his head spinning. An errant spark popped across the bottom of his lung, and he flinched, hissing in pain.

"Oh, dear, that sounded painful," the man remarked. "We'd best get you set up with a new respirator, hadn't we? As soon as possible, I should think."

Rythian blinked. "I—yes, but—but who—"

The man patted his arms. "Do let go of me, would you, Rythian?"

Stunned and disoriented, Rythian pried his hands away and stepped back. The man brushed his sleeves off, straightened his shirt, and nodded to himself as though pleased with the job he had done.

"Who . . . are you?" Rythian managed. He fidgeted, acutely aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a paper hospital gown.

"Hardly important just now," the man replied, waving a hand. "What's important is that we get your needs taken care of. Now. I anticipated that the hospital would have thrown out your clothes and respirator, so I've taken the liberty of bringing some replacements for you. If you're feeling well enough, I'll have my people check you out of here and we can get you dressed and breathing properly."

"Your—your—your _people?"_ he stammered.

"Yes, yes! Don't worry about it, Rythian. You had a very rough time the other night, to hear Nano tell it, and I aim to make sure today is a good deal easier on you. Granted, it would be difficult for it to be _worse,_ but. Hardly the point."

"Nano?" Rythian said, latching onto the hint of familiarity.

"Certainly! She's at her lab now, with Lalna, and I would be more than happy to take you back there, if you wish. That's why I came here, actually; to bring you back home, if you were well enough." His diamond eyes sparkled. "And I would presume, from the way you were running about, you _are_ well enough."

"Yes, I . . . yes," said Rythian, collecting himself. The word _home_ bounced around in his head, foreign and awkward. "I would . . . definitely like to go back to Nano and Lalna's."

_"Ex-_ cellent!" said the man, rubbing his hands together. "Now, if you'll just come along with me, we'll have you all set up in no time at all. I'm afraid we've been forced to guess on your correct sizing, but I'm confident anything would be better than that gown just now. We'll get you properly outfitted soon enough."

"Thanks," Rythian said warily. His mind was gathering itself, and it had noted some glaring issues with the current conversation.

"Think nothing of it! Considering the forty-eight hours you've just had, I'd say it's—"

"Why won't you tell me who you are?" Rythian interrupted.

The man raised his eyebrows and blinked.

"I—well, it's simply unimportant at the—"

"Humor me," said Rythian, holding the man's gaze like it was going to bite him if he let go.

The man inclined his head and shrugged. He sighed.

"Well, if you _must_ know. Dr. Llewellyn Xephos, at your service."

Rythian's blood ran cold. He took a slow, cautious step back.

Xephos smiled a sharp little smile, his dead eyes glittering.

"Yes," he said, _"that_ Dr. Xephos. But I assure you, I mean you no harm whatsoever—"

Rythian's dynamo was already whirring along at full speed, but he willed it to work faster. He was nowhere near charged enough to teleport anywhere, but in a few more minutes he would stand a very good chance of killing the next person he touched. He took another cautious step away from Xephos.

"I think I'll find my own way back to Nano and Lalna's," Rythian said. His voice was shaking, and he cursed himself internally, then promptly blamed it on the fact that he'd almost died.

"Oh, come now, Rythian," Xephos said, rolling his eyes. "We're all friends here, aren't we? Lalna likes you well enough, and I trust his judgement implicitly. I understand you've had a difficult time—"

"I'll continue having one, if it's all the same to you," he said.

"Will you?" Xephos inquired. "I suppose I'll be on my way, then. _In_ -cidentally, were you aware that when a Powered individual cannot pay their expenses, for whatever reason, they are given over to YogLabs for handling and disposition? Now, an employee of the Division has, of course, all their expenses covered, even, perhaps, shall we say _incidental_ ones? I'm sure no one could blame _you_ if a machine or two was hooked up incautiously and was, as a result, completely ruined. Well. That is to say, if you were to play nice with me and at least _behave_ as though you were a real human being, no one _would_ blame you. If I am making myself clear?"

Rythian stared at him and swallowed.

"How . . . _many_ machines," he hazarded, "would the Division consider . . . an acceptable number to pay for?"

Xephos's mouth curled into a smile. His eyes remained hard and cold.

"As many as were broken," he said. "And certainly if you were an employee of the Division, no one could claim that anything had been destroyed on _purpose._ Not without significant legal ramifications, anyway."

Rythian licked his lips, eyes darting. The corridor behind him was silent, apparently devoid of people. If it became necessary, he could hit Xephos with plenty of voltage to at least incapacitate him, if not kill him outright. He gathered himself, planning the one-eighty pivot and the initial leap towards a sprint.

"I wouldn't try running again, if I were you," Xephos preempted. Rythian's heart collided with his ribs and his knees buckled as he aborted his movement. Xephos's smile curled out a little further.

"I do so hate having to chase you people down," he went on.

"What's my guarantee you won't lock me up anyway?" Rythian demanded, his voice shaking more than ever. More sparks were gathering in his lungs as his voltage steadily rose. His heart was fluttering desperately, like an insect trapped between a pair of sweating palms.

"You haven't got one, I'm afraid," Xephos replied. "Other than the fact that, if I _wanted_ you locked up, the two lovely ladies who have been standing behind you for the past three minutes could certainly have disposed of you long before now."

Rythian whirled, his heart leaping into his throat. Sure enough, there were two women standing behind him, clad in black and wearing expressions so stony they might as well have been carved from granite. He stumbled back a step, and a pair of large, strong hands closed on his shoulders. He froze.

"I really would suggest playing nice, Rythian," Xephos said softly. "There's no need for this to become messy. And Lalna has grown so very attached to you."

The two women stared at Rythian, impassive, and Rythian stared back at them, his head full of static. Xephos's hands were cool against his shoulders, separated from his skin by what amounted to a sheet of paper.

A spark cracked through his lung, and he flinched, and Xephos's hands tightened, ever so slightly, on his shoulders.

"Okay," Rythian croaked. The word tasted like blood on his tongue.

_"Ex-_ cellent!" Xephos said brightly. "First thing's first, let's get you a new respirator, shall we?"

* * *

 

Rythian looked at himself in the mirror again and adjusted the bit of his sleeves that looped around his thumbs. His face was flushed behind the new respirator, a sleek little mask that fit snugly, padded with soft leather and foam so that it wouldn't draw angry red lines on his cheeks and nose. He turned to examine his profile in the mirror, his head bowed shyly.

"Do you like it?" the little ginger tailor asked, wringing his hands. His voice was hard-edged with an American accent, and it kept cracking. "I'll have to take the shirt and jacket in a little at the sides, I think, and maybe hem the trousers a little more—you're a little shorter than they said—no offense—"

"I . . . really like it," Rythian admitted. "Except . . . I mean, I don't . . . usually wear shoes, so—"

The tailor nodded, making his mop of curly hair bounce. "Yeah, yeah, they told me. Melting through the soles and everything. Don't worry! Those are mostly just shaped leather with some elastic for support. They won't be _super_ useful for keeping, like, nails out of your feet, but for ordinary every-day use, they should work! And you won't melt through them!"

Rythian wiggled his toes. His toenails scraped his skin, and years' worth of callouses were squeezed together uncomfortably.

"I guess that's fine," he said, shrugging. He looked himself over in the mirror again. "Um. And . . . you're _sure_ I can just . . . _keep_ this?"

"When I'm done fixing it, sure," said the tailor. "The Director signed off on it and everything. All YLPIDs get their own mission suit. Of course, most people actually have other clothes, too, but I'm sure that's not your fault. If I can be a little honest, this one was pretty fun. No big worries like shape-changing or polyester allergies or anything. Just nothing that'll melt? Pff, easy."

"What's an _illpid?"_ Rythian asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You are, for a start," the tailor answered. "Maybe it's just me who calls you that. YogLabs Powered Individual Division, a.k.a. YLPID, a.k.a. _the Division._ I call you all YLPIDs because it's shorter than anything else. Are you done with the suit? I can have it done for you by five if I start soon."

"Um," said Rythian, reluctantly turning away from the mirrors. "Sure. Yes. Thank you. Um. What was your name again?"

"Garion," the tailor answered, a thready note of disappointment in his voice. "It's . . . Garion. I guess I didn't tell you. Or something."

"No—no, I'm just—I'm really terrible with names," Rythian lied hurriedly. "Sorry, I'm really sorry, Garion. I'll really try not to forget again."

Garion shrugged. "It's fine." He reached out his small hands and made a grabbing gesture. "Gimme. I don't have _all_ day, y'know."

Rythian glanced at himself in the mirror one last time.

It was undoubtedly the best he had ever been dressed. There were the black boots, snug and dully shiny, laced up over his ankles; the fitted tan cargo pants with no fewer than a dozen pockets, strategically padded to reduce impacts; the tight, pale blue shirt with its sleeves that hooked over his thumbs, the white kevlar-lined vest buckled over it; the padded black leather jacket with a silver lightning bolt patch carefully stitched down the back of it. Rythian touched the lapel of the jacket with his grimy fingertips, reverent.

"Rythian?" Garion prompted.

Rythian snapped back to the present, blushing hotly.

"Yes, I'm just—yes. I'll just—do you mind—"

Garion, in his own turn, blushed as well.

"O-oh," he said. "I'll . . . yeah. Not that I was going to—I mean I wouldn't've—I'll just—"

He got up from the table he'd been perched on and hurried out of the room.

Rythian undressed, carefully not looking at himself in the mirror, gingerly pulling the new clothes off past his bandages. He climbed back into the gray sweatpants and oversized YogLabs t-shirt he'd been provided with before leaving the hospital, then went and retrieved Garion from the hall.

"Come back around five," Garion told him, picking up the discarded clothes. "I should be done by then."

"Right," said Rythian. "And . . . what do I do until then?"

"Eat a sandwich?" Garion suggested, and clapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry! Sorry, I'm really sorry, that just kind of slipped out, I wasn't trying to—um—"

Rythian took pity on him and interrupted. "Where do you go to get a sandwich around here?" he asked.

"Dining hall," Garion answered, his voice squeaking. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Um. There're signs, it's pretty easy to find. Did they give you a card? Otherwise you'll have to pay and it's kind of stupidly expensive. But it _is_ a buffet, so . . . I guess you _could_ get what you pay for, if you were really hungry."

Rythian touched his pocket, then pulled up short.

The remaining two hundred and five pounds he'd gotten from Tom had been in his other clothes. He had no doubt that someone at the hospital had taken the money out before throwing the clothes away—and even if they hadn't, there was no way Rythian was ever going to get it back now. A knot of queasiness tangled up in his stomach, and he sagged.

"Oh," he said.

"Do you—I mean, you could borrow mine, if you wanted," Garion offered. "My card. I don't mind, I almost never use it for meals. If you don't have one."

Rythian blinked at him.

"Are you . . . serious?" he asked.

"Yeah!" said Garion, nodding emphatically. He dumped Rythian's new clothes on the table and hurried over to him, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a green wallet shaped like a frog and dug around inside its mouth, coming up with a plastic card. He handed it to Rythian, who stared at it for a long moment before accepting it.

"Don't worry about the picture," Garion told him. "They never look. And even if they did, I buy people lunch all the time, so they won't think it's weird. Well. I—I mean people use my card to buy lunch all the time. Which . . . is why I almost never use it. But it's fine! I'm just glad I can, y'know, help out! A-and it's made me a lot of friends, which is great—maybe not like _friend_ friends, but—"

Rythian considered him, tucking the card into his pocket.

"Garion," he said, keeping his voice soft.

The chatter stopped immediately. Garion stared up at him with huge, gleaming eyes, a blush rising to his freckled cheeks.

"Thank you," Rythian said seriously.

"I-it's . . . no problem," Garion managed, his voice thin.

Rythian smiled at him, winked, then left the room, walking confidently even though he had no clue where he was going.

He could feel Garion staring at him until the door drifted closed between them.

* * *

 

The dining hall was crowded, and as such set Rythian instantly on edge. He had swiped Garion's card at a little machine at the door, and no one had so much as glanced at him or it. He sidled around the room, hugging the walls, keeping as far from other people as he possibly could. He was just about to give up and duck back out when the smell of the food got to him.

Somewhere, there was fettuccine alfredo, and it was _calling_ to him.

Shoulders hunched, elbows pinned to his sides, he ducked through the crowds, keeping close to the walls and avoiding the main thoroughfares, his eyes peeled for any sign of pasta.

He found it on the far end of the dining hall, tucked into a corner under an Italian flag and a cursive neon sign that read, _Mama Mia!_ Rythian made a beeline for it, turning Garion's card over in his hands nervously.

Rythian considered picking up religion when he found that the pasta was all self-serve. He got two plates. There was also a soda fountain that had, gloriously, a spout just for disgusting blue sports drink.

Still reeling from the fact that he had inadvertently stepped into heaven, Rythian looked around for a place to sit, drumming his fingers idly on the plastic lunch tray. Most of the tables were at least partially full, and he wondered exactly _how_ bad of an idea it would be to start making friends.

His eye caught on something bright red, and the world went soft, vignetted like an old movie. As though in a dream, he walked across the hall, idly dodging between people and tables alike.

He stopped just behind the spark of red, and he spoke like it was destiny.

"What's cooking, good looking?"

Zoey went stiff, and her head snapped up, and her whole face lit up like the sun.

"Oh my _gosh!"_ she cried, and leapt up out of her chair and flung her arms around his waist, nearly knocking his tray right out of his hands. Hurriedly, he set it down on the table, then swept her into his arms and spun her around, laughing.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Zoey demanded, once he had set her down, holding him at arm's length. There were tears in her eyes.

"I heard there was food," he answered. "You know me."

"But—but you were in hospital, you almost _died!"_

He snorted derisively. "Someone as powerful and formidable as I cannot be defeated by a mere hospital," he declared haughtily.

_"Dork,"_ Zoey accused affectionately. "Seriously, what are you doing here? I thought you were like, super against the whole Division thing?"

"I heard there was food," Rythian said again, because _I was blackmailed into it_ would have spoiled the moment.

The woman sitting next to Zoey had gotten to her feet, and was looking Rythian up and down. Zoey turned to her excitedly.

"Babe, this is Rythian. Rythian, this is my girlfriend, Fiona."

Fiona held out a large, calloused hand. Rythian shook it, touching her elbow with his other hand.

"It's an honor," he said seriously.

"Yeah?" said Fiona, her voice incongruously mousy.

"Oh, yes," said Rythian. "It's not every day you meet the most beautiful woman in the world."

Fiona snorted and put her face in her hands.

"You didn't tell me he was _smooth,"_ she complained.

"He's really not," Zoey said.

"Excuse you, that was _incredibly_ smooth," Rythian objected, folding his arms.

"Yeah? How long've you been thinking it up?"

"Two years," said Rythian, pulling out the chair next to Zoey and sitting down. The two women followed suit.

"Not smooth," Zoey said to Fiona.

Rythian took off the new respirator and started in on his pasta, wolfing it down with the single-minded enthusiasm that always came after a day or two without food. He only paused to press the respirator to his face, once every five breaths or so.

"Okay, yeah, I see where you're coming from," Fiona said.

"The day they invent a graceful way of eating pasta," Rythian told her, his mouth half-full, "is the day I leave this earth and ascend to the astral plane. It's the only thing holding me back."

"I know," said Zoey. "I've been keeping them from doing it for years."

"I'm officially declaring you my arch-nemesis."

"Stop talking with your mouth full, nemesis, it's gross."

_"Arch_ -nemesis."

"No, you're just my regular nemesis. Not much arch about you."

"News at ten: woman strangled with spaghetti noodle." He pitched his voice high and mocking and continued, _"Oh officer, it's so terrible, he always seemed like such a_ _sweet_ _crazy homeless guy."_

"You can't strangle someone with a spaghetti noodle."

"Maybe _you_ can't."

"Oh, right, you must've had lots of practice, 'cause of your noodle arms."

Rythian set down his fork and looked at her for a long moment, holding the new respirator to his face.

_"God_ I missed you," he said fondly.

 


	13. Chapter 12

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Lalna came out of their sleep cycle after precisely eight hours, the maximum amount of time their system would allow them to remain in sleep mode. They ran a full system diagnosis, sitting motionless in their stasis chair. All their systems seemed to be functioning nominally, so they started working on parsing the conversations with Zoey and Xephos from the day before. While that ran in the background, a faint chatter in their ear, they got up and changed clothes, then went out to greet the world.

Nano was not in the front room, so Lalna went and stood at her door, using their thermal cameras to peer through the wood. She was in bed—most likely asleep, given how early in the morning it was. Lalna nodded to themselves and went back to the front room. They noted down last night's emotional outburst and sent the incident report to Xephos.

Even the bit about not wanting to do what he said anymore.

With that done, they went into the kitchen and attempted scrambled eggs.

In theory, it was a simple concept: crack the shells; decant the fluids inside into a heated, greased skillet; vigorously agitate until they were of a uniform consistency; heat them until the proteins denatured and aggregated into an opaque solid; and then season and serve.

It was the cracking that gave them trouble. No matter how they adjusted and calculated and adjusted again, they simply _couldn't_ get the shell to crack neatly. They either ended up making a useless, fractured dent in the shell or smashing the egg and completely wasting it. The problem, they thought, was that eggs were non-uniform, and there was no calibration standard. No matter where they looked, they couldn't find any credible sources for how much force it took to crack an egg, so they had to figure it out on their own through rigorous trial-and-error.

They usually only attempted this when Nano was asleep, so that they could clean up the mess without her ever knowing about it. There was, of course, the issue of the number of eggs they went through on a monthly basis, but Lalna never attempted more than four in a row, so as to avoid drawing suspicion. If Nano had noticed, she hadn't said anything, and that was nearly the same result anyway.

The first egg, they barely managed to crack the shell. The second was sheared clean in half by the edge of the skillet.

On the third egg of that morning, they _finally_ got it right.

There was a little _click_ noise, and a thin line skittered across the equator of the egg. Lalna stared at it for a long moment while albumen began to drip out of the crack.

Moving delicately, they separated the two halves of the shell and poured out the goo inside.

In their excitement, they completely shattered the fourth egg, and then forgot to agitate the single perfect egg interior and ended up burning it. Such was their elation, though, that they got out two more eggs and tried again, after clearing up the largest parts of the mess.

Both eggs cracked to an acceptable degree, and Lalna was able to focus on their proper preparation, and in less than ten minutes they had created a plate of fluffy, steaming scrambled eggs.

Delighted beyond their capacity to manage, they rushed to Nano's door and knocked vigorously until she opened it. Her hair was mussed, her eyes bleary, her pajamas disheveled.

"What?" she croaked.

"I've successfully scrambled eggs!" Lalna cried.

Nano winced, and Lalna forced themselves to lower their volume.

"I need you to test them for palatability. They're cooling rapidly now that they're out of the skillet, and they're best eaten hot. Please?"

Nano blinked owlishly at Lalna, then smiled.

"All right," she said. "Let's see what you've got."

Lalna hurried back to the kitchen, watching Nano shuffle along behind them through their rear cameras. She was yawning frequently and rubbing her eyes, but she had not stopped smiling.

They sat her down at the table and then brought her the beautiful plate of scrambled eggs.

"A fork would be helpful," she told them.

"Oh! Yes! I'll get you one!"

When proper silverware had been obtained, Nano tried the eggs. She raised her eyebrows and stuck her bottom lip out, then took another bite.

"Not bad," she said. "Bit plain. Could do with some butter, or cheese, maybe. Mm, yeah, bit of cheese would be grand."

Lalna brought her the block of sharp cheddar from the cheese drawer in the fridge—and then, when requested, the cheese grater. They hovered at Nano's shoulder while she ate the eggs, tapping their thumbs together nervously.

When Nano had finished, she sat back and wiped her mouth on a napkin.

"Well, Lalna, I'd say your eggs were a complete success," she declared.

Lalna, completely overwhelmed and lacking a proper reaction, called up the excited squealing noise Zoey had made when she'd learned she would be meeting Nano. They put their hands over their face, because it seemed a sensible thing to do. Perhaps then, Nano wouldn't see their emotional indicator screens clearly displaying their rosy blushing color.

Nano burst out laughing, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Oh my God, where on _earth_ did _that_ come from?" she asked.

"Zoey," Lalna answered.

Nano laughed again. "Oh, God, that's adorable. You're so _cute_ sometimes, good grief. How long've you been working on this egg thing, anyways?"

"Twelve weeks, four days, and two hours," they said. She snorted.

"Oh, is _that_ where all our eggs have been getting off to. I had a hunch you were doing _something_ with them."

"They're difficult to crack," they said. "There aren't any reliable resources on the proper amount of force."

"You could have asked me," Nano pointed out.

"You don't think in Newtons," Lalna replied.

"You know? You're right. Still. If you ever _want_ my help with something, I'm always happy to give it."

"You were very helpful with palatability testing," they said.

"Was I? Grand! Thanks for including me in your experiment, I'm glad I could help."

Lalna nodded, letting their hands fall back to their sides.

"Nano," they said, beginning a new conversational track.

"Mmhm?"

"When is Rythian coming home?"

Nano sighed, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know. At some point today, according to Xephos, but he didn't mention when."

"I could ask him," Lalna offered.

"I . . . wouldn't, if I were you," Nano said. Her face showed signs of discomfort. "He's a busy man, after all."

"He always has time for me," they pointed out.

"Yes, well . . . yes, but . . . look, Lalna, I think it's best if we're just patient. If he hasn't brought Rythian back by this evening, we'll call him up and ask. Okay?"

Lalna ran a disappointment routine and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Okay," they said.

"Thanks." She stretched, then leaned her elbows on the table. "Right, so: what's on the agenda for today?"

Lalna pulled up the daily schedule and began reading it, relegating all their other trains of thought to the background of their mind.

There was, after all, science to be done.

* * *

 

At six o'clock in the evening, Lalna and Nano were down in the chemistry lab. Nano was peering at electron microscope scans of freshly-made polymers and Lalna was portioning out synthesis materials. Something pinged their software, quite suddenly, and set off a whole host of alarm bells.

"Someone has just accessed the front door," Lalna said. Their hazard detection software was volleying warning after warning at them. They acknowledged the warnings and placed themselves on high alert, but made no other concession.

"What?" said Nano, looking over her shoulder at them. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know," said Lalna.

"All right, we'd better go see who it is," said Nano, getting out of her chair. Her heart rate had skyrocketed, although she was maintaining a calm demeanor.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Lalna told her.

She stopped, scrutinizing them.

"That's not necessary, Lalna," she said. "I think I can manage on my own."

"You're frightened," they said.

"Yeah, and I'm also _trained._ I don't _need_ you to protect me, Lal. Though I appreciate that you want to help. I'll take care of myself." She hesitated, then added, "And if I get hurt, it won't be your fault."

Lalna considered this, then nodded. "Okay. We should see who's at the door."

Together, the two of them went back upstairs, Lalna taking the lead. They could detect sounds coming from the kitchen; a faint rumbling noise, and the squealing of the cabinets' hinges.

"I believe they are in the kitchen," Lalna said, as they and Nano reached the top of the stairs.

"Don't shoot anyone," Nano warned.

"What if they're a hazard?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "All right, don't shoot anyone unless they're about to shoot _us."_

"Okay," said Lalna. They switched to thermal cameras briefly to check if there were multiple intruders. There were, in fact, two human heat signatures; one in the kitchen, moving about, and one on the sofa in the living room.

The stove was also on, and between that and the rumbling noise, a clear conclusion presented itself.

"There are two of them," Lalna reported. "I believe one is making tea."

_"Ohhh,"_ said Nano. "It'll be Xephos and Rythian, then."

She moved to brush past Lalna, and they stuck out an arm.

"I am not certain that is a safe assumption," they said.

Nano hesitated, then took a step back.

"All right, then," she said, and gestured to the door. "After you."

Lalna opened the door and strode into the main part of the house, alert and attentive.

As they came in, Rythian stood up from the couch and turned to face them, his eyes wide with surprise and what might have been joy.

Lalna's whole system locked up.

Every internal process was requesting a different emotion, from delight to relief to embarrassment, each kicking up thousands of demands per second and reducing Lalna's effective processing speed to a crawl. They stopped in the middle of the floor and simply stared at Rythian, overwhelmed.

Slowly, Rythian raised a hand.

"Hi," he said.

"You are undamaged," Lalna said, because it was the only thing they could find to say amidst the yelling in their head.

"I . . . yeah," said Rythian. He rubbed his arm and shrugged. "I mean. Mostly. Yes. And . . . you're also . . . undamaged?"

"Yes," said Lalna.

Rythian's eyes crinkled with a smile, and Lalna's system flooded with joy. They approached quickly—but not too quickly, lest they startle him—and stopped a short distance away from him, just on the other side of the couch. Rythian had lifted a hand, as though to reach out and touch them; slowly, he let it fall back to his side, curling his fingers in.

The two of them stood, facing each other in silence, for several long seconds. Rythian stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket—brand-new, tailored, looked _wonderful_ on him—and rocked back on his heels, averting his eyes and blushing.

"I'm . . . glad you're okay," he said.

"So am I," said Lalna, then clarified, "Glad. That _you're_ okay. Also."

Rythian looked at them for a long moment, his expression showing markers of both pleasure and pain.

"I really wish I could hug you," he said.

Lalna's interpersonal software called up Zoey's delighted squealing noise, and Lalna only _just_ managed to stop it from being played out loud.

"I'm certain it could be made possible with adequate precautions," they said instead. They wrote themselves a memo to figure out exactly _which_ precautions.

Nano walked up behind Lalna and folded her arms, amusement written plainly in every line of her face.

"Hi, Rythian," she said. "All right?"

He shrugged again. "Mostly," he said. "You?"

"Broken rib's the worst of it. I like the new threads, they suit you."

Rythian looked down at himself and smiled again. He ran a hand back over his hair, then looked back up at Nano.

"They're good, right?" he said. "They're . . . they're really good."

"Garion's a wizard," Nano agreed. "Is Xephos in the kitchen, then?"

Rythian's eyes flicked to the kitchen, and his posture changed, becoming more closed, more nervous.

"Yes," he said. "Making tea. Apparently."

"Good. Because I'm going to have a word with him about why he's got access to my fucking house."

Rythian's eyebrows shot up. "He's not supposed to?" he asked.

"No," Nano said darkly. "And very shortly, he's not going to anymore. So if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone—"

"Love—what— _lovebirds?"_ Rythian sputtered, his voice cracking. His blush was so intense that the surface temperature of his face had risen by an entire degree.

Nano just winked at him and went to the kitchen. Lalna heard her, very distinctly, as she started in on Xephos.

_"Why in the_ _hell_ _have you got access to my front door?"_ she demanded.

_"Oh! Ahahah, well, you see, about that—"_

"Lalna?" Rythian said quietly. The excess blood had gone from his face, leaving him cooler, more serious. Lalna turned their head towards him, although they were still listening to the conversation going on in the kitchen.

_"You told me nobody else had access to this house. Forgot to mention yourself, did you?"_

_"That's not_ _ precisely _ _what happened. I may have . . . erroneously assumed you understood I was lumping myself in with those who had access—"_

"Yes?" Lalna said to Rythian.

"It's . . . about Xephos," Rythian said, keeping his voice low. He glanced at the kitchen.

_"It's not as though I've_ _used_ _it for—for nefarious purposes, or whatever it is you're concerned about,"_ Xephos was saying, annoyed.

"What about him?" Lalna asked, matching Rythian's volume.

"Is he—does he—" Rythian made a frustrated noise and shook his head. He folded his arms and shrugged. "How do you two even _know_ him?"

_"It doesn't matter what you have or haven't done with it, you shouldn't_ _have_ _it,"_ Nano said.

"He built me," Lalna answered promptly.

Rythian recoiled, his eyes going wide.

"He— _he?_ Built—so he's like your—your—your—"

"My creator," said Lalna.

"But—yes, I mean, clearly, but—"

Lalna devoted some processing power to figuring out what Rythian was trying to ask. This caused them to lose track of the conversation in the kitchen.

"He is not my father," Lalna said. "He said so."

Rythian blushed again. "No? Well, good, okay, that's—"

"I wish he were," they admitted, running a disappointment routine.

Again, Rythian pulled up short.

"Are you . . . I mean have you _met_ him?" he asked, bewildered.

"Of course I have," Lalna said, running a puzzlement routine. "I don't understand why you're asking. You seem like you're trying to make a point, but I don't know what it is."

"Lalna, he—" Rythian stopped again, then leaned in and spoke in a whisper. His eyes stayed fixed on the kitchen door. "He threatened to throw me in jail if I didn't join the Division."

"Yes," said Lalna, nodding. "That's the procedure."

Rythian turned his eyes to Lalna and slowly leaned back. There were clear markers of suspicion on his face.

"What do you mean," he said slowly, _"that's the procedure?"_

"Any Powered individual who cannot or will not pay their outstanding debts in a reasonable timeframe is given the option to join the Division. Otherwise they are incarcerated until they can complete sufficient labor to recover the costs of their initial expenses and the cost of supporting their stay in prison. That's the procedure."

Rythian stared at them and backed away a step.

"You're not serious," he said.

Lalna ran another puzzlement routine. "I have no reason to lie to you," they said. They were routing more and more computing power to getting a handle on the situation, and it was beginning to cause notable slowdowns.

"And you don't see anything _wrong_ with this—this _procedure_ of yours?" Rythian demanded. "Christ, it's _blackmail!"_

"I don't understand," Lalna said. Their systems were a mess, scrambling to understand what Rythian was saying, why he was so upset. Something inside them was sending up requests for fear, and Lalna kept accidentally acquiescing in their confusion.

"You don't _understand,"_ Rythian said darkly. His fists clenched at his sides. "Of course. Of course you don't fucking understand, you're _better_ than brainwashed, aren't you."

"Bra _aaa_ ainwashed?" Lalna asked. The vocal processor was always the first to go when their systems became overwhelmed. "I don't un-un-und ~~erstand~~ , I do _oo_ on't undersszzstand—"

"Rythian, are you distressing my robot?"

Rythian froze on the spot, his whole body going tense, his pulse accelerating. He stopped breathing for a moment. Xephos walked up behind Lalna and put a hand on their shoulder, peering up at their face.

"Good God, what _have_ you done to him?" Xephos asked.

As per usual, Lalna's systems abandoned their current tasks and started shutting down, one by one. It was more difficult to hurt when there were fewer processes to request the feeling.

"N-nothing," Rythian stammered, his voice choked. "Just—we were just talking—"

"Oh? About what?" His voice was pleasant, his posture relaxed.

"Just—just—um—"

"Rythian's new job," Lalna answered mechanically.

"Ah, I _see,"_ said Xephos. Rythian went pale, and gulped. "Perhaps, _in_ the future, you could try _not_ to distress him so thoroughly? It's very bad for his systems, getting all worked up like this."

Every wrong pronoun came down on Lalna like a hammer blow, jarring and painful.

Some deep process, not yet shut down, requested anger. Lalna clenched their fists at their sides as a concession. The process made another request, specifying a more severe response. Without meaning to, Lalna began priming their MALaRs.

Just then, Nano entered, a cup of tea in her hands. She looked the scene over, then sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Xephos, weren't you leaving?" she demanded.

Briefly distracted by the interaction, Lalna recovered enough presence of mind to shut down not only the MALaRs, but also whatever process had requested their use. For some reason, this also shut down their emotional indicator screens.

"I was," Xephos said, "until it came to my attention that Rythian had rather significantly distressed Lalna."

Nano cocked a hip out to the side and glared at Rythian.

"What've you done _this_ time?"

"This— _this_ time?" Rythian sputtered, his voice squeaking.

"You're always upsetting them with something or another. Generally being too cute or talking about leaving town."

_"Excuse me?"_ His voice was a full octave higher than usual. He was blushing.

"I mean," Nano went on. "You've got to be gentle. They're only two, after all."

Rythian stiffened, then turned his eyes slowly to Lalna.

"Two?" he said faintly.

"Ahah, yes, well," Xephos cut in. His hand was tight on Lalna's shoulder. "I'm certain Rythian doesn't need to know _all_ the specifics."

"I'd be less tempted to talk about them if you weren't still standing in my living room," Nano told him, smiling.

_"Two?"_ Rythian repeated, his voice even more attenuated. He was still staring at Lalna, wide-eyed.

Xephos's hand tightened still further on Lalna's shoulder.

"Would you?" he asked Nano. "How _much_ less tempted, would you say? Because I could, in theory, simply remove Rythian from your household, if you are, in fact, incapable of keeping your mouth shut—"

Lalna reached up and grasped Xephos's wrist firmly, their fingers wrapping all the way around it. They removed his hand from their shoulder.

For five seconds, no one said a word.

Carefully, Xephos extracted himself from Lalna's grip. Lalna allowed him to, but they did not let him do it easily. They left their empty hand in the air.

"I think you were just leaving," Nano said quietly. There was a faint tremor in her voice.

"Ah? Yes. I was . . . yes," said Xephos. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, then rubbed his wrist. "Well. Lalna, we'll have our regular meeting Monday afternoon. Until then, do _try_ not to . . . well. Just keep out of trouble, please."

Lalna said nothing.

"Did you hear—"

"Acknowledged," they stated.

Xephos took a delicate step back.

"Ah. Well. Good. I will . . . be on my way, then. Yes. Ahem. Nano. Rythian."

He nodded to each of them in turn, straightened his shirt again, and left the house, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Lalna, what—" Nano began.

"I am going to sleep," they declared, turning on their heel. Nano stepped into their path, her brows drawn together, her lips tight.

"Hang on just a _second,"_ she said, her voice sharp.

Lalna put a hand on her shoulder and gently—but definitively—moved her out of the way. Then they went to their room and locked themselves inside.

They discharged both MALaRs, full-power, into their stasis chair, three hundred times in fifteen seconds. The power drain was so massive that it dropped them into sleep-mode without so much as a request.

Otherwise, they would have kept shooting until the chair was a glowing heap of molten slag.

* * *

 

Eight hours later, they came back online. Someone had put a blanket over them, covering them where they had fallen. Nano had a key to their room—it wasn't surprising that she had used it. They folded the blanket neatly, then hugged it to their chest as they shuffled out of their room.

The stasis chair, although not a heap of molten slag, had been seriously deformed by their tantrum, and had showered microscopic droplets of molten metal onto everything in its corner of the room. Nothing seemed to have caught fire, however, and Lalna considered themselves fortunate for that.

They crept into the living room, making as little noise as possible. Rythian was asleep on the couch, and Lalna concluded that Nano was most likely in her room, also sleeping. It was still four hours before dawn. As they moved towards the kitchen, a floorboard creaked, strained by their ponderous weight.

They heard Rythian suck in a sudden, startled breath of air, and saw him sit bolt-upright in their rear cameras. They clutched the blanket closer to their chest and froze on the spot.

"Lalna?" Rythian said. His voice was hoarse and quiet, and definitively apprehensive.

"Yes," said Lalna. "I'm very sorry I scared you. I'm also very sorry for my behavior last night, which was highly abnormal and should not happen again. And probably also scared you."

After a moment, Rythian said, "It did."

"I'm very sorry," Lalna repeated.

"I . . . forgive you," said Rythian. "Are—are you all right?"

"I am undamaged," they said.

"Good. Um. Good. It's just that I . . . I sort of thought you might have been . . . um. Dead. Nano said you weren't, but. . . ." He sighed and shrugged. "So I'm glad you're not."

"Thank you," said Lalna. "I am going to attempt cookies because they make me happy. Would you like them when I'm done?"

Again, Rythian hesitated before answering.

"Sure," he said. "If you're making them anyway. At . . . two-thirty in the morning."

Lalna nodded. "I am still not functioning well enough to do any science. I also will not be able to enter another sleep cycle for fifteen hours and fifty-two minutes. To compensate for the power drain I incurred I will be running a full sleep cycle every sixteen hours for the next two weeks, although I may be able to slightly extend the interval to more closely align my sleep schedule with Nano's. Currently, cookies are an optimal solution."

"Fair enough," said Rythian.

"Would you like anything special in your cookies? I have not yet attempted adding inclusions to the dough."

For the third time, Rythian took a long moment to answer.

"Do you have chocolate chips?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lalna.

Rythian made a fist and bowed his head.

_"Yessss,"_ he whispered.

 


	14. Chapter 13

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Lomadia sat very still and listened to everything.

The city was a frantic place, a rat's nest of steel and glass, brightly lit even in the middle of the night. People scurried about, and smaller prey scurried after them, and everything was eating everything else, piece by piece and night by night, in an endless cycle of fruitless violence. The swarms of cars were never still, rushing to and fro like huge ants, single-minded and never, _ever_ looking up.

In a city so tall, it was incredible how little anyone looked up.

Perched on a balcony rail on the fortieth story of a skyscraper, Lomadia adjusted her wings to let the updraft brush through them. She turned her head this way and that, unblinking, ears attuned to every little sound. She could hear people speaking in the streets far below, their words indistinct but their tones clear. Twelve blocks away, a police car started screaming into the night and rushed off on urgent, trivial business. There was a club nearby whose windows were rattling because the music was too loud. In the building behind her, someone was still at work, typing away on their keyboard like a little mouse scratching at the wall.

It was a beautiful cacophony, and it swelled up around her with all the tenderness of a place called _home._

She had been perched on this particular building since full dark had come, scratching little grooves into the balcony rail with her talons as she shifted her weight every so often. She had watched the firefly lights dance below, attuned to their rhythm, and she had listened very carefully for well over four hours.

Finally, she heard the scream.

Lomadia let herself fall from the rail, tipping forward until her head pointed at the ground and then pushing off with her legs. She dove ten stories before spreading her wings, catching herself on the soft air and making her joints ache with glorious strain. She could hear the scuffling, now, the sound of foolish prey making themselves conspicuous. The noise led her to them, trapped in a blessedly dark alleyway with their teeth flashing, as though they had fangs.

There were two men and a woman. The woman was still fighting, though one of the men had covered her mouth and the other was tearing away her clothes.

Lomadia fell upon the men in silence. They didn't notice her until she had already pierced their flesh with her talons.

She bore them both to the ground in a whirlwind of wings and fury, tearing at their faces, their chests, their throats, soaking her claws with their filthy blood. She ripped one man's head clean from his body, then leapt across to the other, who was trying to crawl away. Him, she disemboweled, strewing his guts across the dark alley.

She stepped back and folded her wings, clicking her claws against the ground in satisfaction. To her right, the woman whimpered, a tiny sound that was more mouse than human. Lomadia turned her head, and the woman shrank back, pressing herself against the wall, clutching at the tatters of her blouse.

"I won't hurt you," Lomadia said.

The woman glanced at the pair of bodies and put her hands over her mouth.

"They're dead," Lomadia went on. "You're okay now. I'll take you somewhere safe, if you want."

Still, all the woman did was huddle there and whimper, a frightened mouse looking for an escape. Lomadia flexed her claws and crouched down.

"There's police," she offered. "You could call them."

The woman had squeezed her eyes shut, shivering.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "I'll go away now."

Lomadia leapt into the air, and the woman shrieked, the noise grating against her ears. Lomadia perched on the roof and listened anyway, keeping just out of sight.

The woman ran out of the alley. Lomadia followed her, keeping low, relying on her silent wings to carry her between the rooftops. The woman ran all the way to the police station and rushed inside.

Lomadia waited for an hour, until the cars pulled out with their sirens wailing. Then she took to the skies again, and found another perch far, far up in the noisy sky.

And she listened to everything.

* * *

 

Two hours later, the earpiece she kept in her pocket crackled to life.

_"Lom,"_ came Zylus's voice, staticky and muffled. _"We need you back home. Nileshy'sh having one of hish little epishodesh."_

Lomadia dipped her head and spoke into the tiny microphone clipped to the inside of her collar.

"Where is he?" she asked.

_"If I knew, I wouldn't be calling you."_

"I could find him."

_"Pleashe don't. If he getsh back and you're not here, Panda'sh going to have to deal with it, and he'sh got school in the morning. He'sh ashleep, and I don't want to wake him."_

"Can't you just call me when he gets back?"

_"I would really prefer not to, conshidering that would leave_ _ me _ _alone with him until you got back. Do you have any idea how fucking_ _ loud _ _he thinksh when he'sh jusht come off an epishode? It'sh a nightmare. There'sh no getting away from it."_

"But I'm doing things," Lomadia said, shaking out her wings.

_"Lom. Pleashe. I'll owe you one. I sherioushly can't deal with him tonight, I'm getting an aura and it feelsh like it'sh going to be a bad one."_

"Oh. Why didn't you say so? Do you have your medicine?"

_"Yesh, Lom, I've got plenty of medishine."_

"It doesn't always work, though."

_"I know. That'sh why I'm ashking you to come home before Nileshy turnsh up."_

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

_"Thank you. I'll put on shome tea for you."_

"That's very nice of you."

_"You'd better hurry, or it'll be cold."_

Lomadia smiled to herself.

"Right," she said, and tipped herself out into the open air.

* * *

 

She slipped in through the bay window and pulled it shut behind her. Zylus was lying on the sofa, pressing his fingertips to his temples, his eyes squeezed shut. There was no tea.

"Hi," Lomadia said, as quietly as she could. Zylus winced.

"Can you pleashe get me an ishepack?" he requested, his voice thin.

Lomadia crept into the kitchen and took an icepack from the freezer. She brought it to Zylus and touched it gently to his shoulder, and he took it, positioning it under his neck. His face was still tight with pain.

"You should be in your room," she told him.

"Can't get up," he said. He put both hands on his head and pressed his fingertips in.

"Okay," said Lomadia. She came around to the front of the couch and scooped Zylus up in her arms, making sure to keep the icepack against his neck. He made a quiet, pained noise, then leaned his head against her chest. She carried him into his room, set him down on his bed, and tucked him in, fussing over the blankets until they were just so.

"Shtop neshting," he said, a strained smile tugging at his mouth.

She adjusted the icepack under his neck, then kissed his forehead.

"Medicine?" she asked.

"Already," he answered.

"Okay. Feel better soon."

"Thanksh."

She patted his shoulder, fixed the covers one last time, and slipped out silently, closing the door behind her.

Back in the living room, she could hear Panda snoring through his door. She climbed up on the back of the couch and perched there, folding her wings over her shoulders to give them a rest. From one of her many pockets, she pulled out a handheld gaming system and booted it up. It was one of Zylus's wheezingly old systems, complete with a clunky silver disk that held the game itself. It took the system several minutes to wake up, and several more to actually get around to running the game. The graphics and gameplay were just as asthmatic as the rest of the system, frustratingly unresponsive and sometimes impenetrably ambiguous.

Nonetheless, there was a great deal of _satisfaction_ in beating misshapen little creatures with a giant gaudy key, and it passed the time well enough.

An hour later, halfway through a boss fight, she heard Zylus inhale sharply and shift in his bed. She let the boss kill her (much as it pained her to do so), saved the game, and quit. She turned the handheld system off, lest the ancient batteries die while it sat in her pocket, and settled her hands on her knees, watching the door.

After a few seconds, a key turned in the lock, and Nilesy came in. Lomadia got up and met him at the door as he turned away from locking it behind him.

His eyes were feverishly bright behind the mask, unfocused. This close, she could hear his heart thundering in his chest. He took her face in both hands and stood up on his toes to kiss her. She folded her wings around him and let her hands rest on his hips, holding him steady while he swayed on his feet. His skin was hot, his muscles so tense he was shaking. He kissed like he was running out of air.

Gently, Lomadia took his hands and pulled away. He trailed after her, and she guided him to his room, never breaking eye contact. She closed the door behind him, pushing it to with one wing.

Then she pinned him against it and kissed him roughly, hard enough to make his breath catch, hard enough to make him dig his fingernails into the back of her neck. She yanked his tie off, undid the first two buttons of his shirt and pressed her thigh between his legs. When he broke off the kiss to gasp for breath, she dipped her head and bit his neck, hard. A pretty little moan slid between his lips, and she pressed her hand over his mouth. His head fell back against the door and his fingers dragged down to the collar of her shirt, gripping tight. The skin between her teeth had gone hot and tender, so she abandoned it and moved on to another spot, just below. With her free hand, she undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt. He whimpered into her hand, his breath hot.

Lomadia finished the second bruise and brought her lips up to his ear.

"Sex?" she asked, and lifted her hand from his mouth.

_"God yes,"_ he breathed.

She covered his mouth again and went back to absolutely _ruining_ his neck.

* * *

 

Nilesy lay curled against her, still and finally relaxed, wearing nothing but the mask. She had draped one wing over him, and he wasn't shivering yet.

When the silence had stretched long enough, she asked: "Who?"

"Oh, no one in particular," Nilesy answered, his voice lilting. "Suppose we'll find out on the morning news tomorrow."

Carefully, Lomadia touched the mask with two fingers. Nilesy lay still for the space of three breaths, then nodded.

As though it was a sacred act, she took the mask off him. Nilesy closed his eyes, tensing. She placed the mask on his bedside table and then ran a hand through his hair. He shivered and drew closer to her.

"Who?" she asked again.

"He was tall," Nilesy answered, his voice gone vague and distant. "Walking alone. I followed him for six blocks and he never noticed me. He had headphones in. Stupid hat. One minute and forty seconds. Left him in the river."

"Why him?"

The little laugh that slipped out of him had nothing to do with happiness.

"Because it was _easy,"_ he said.

She petted his hair, letting him shiver, letting him breathe.

"I killed two rats," she told him. "They deserved it."

The laugh came again, and he pressed his forehead to her chest, hiding his face.

"No one _deserves_ to die, Lom," he said. "Everyone just does it anyway."

"Nilesy?"

"Hm?"

"Why d'you kill people?"

"Drown," he corrected.

"Why d'you _drown_ people?"

He shrugged, and sighed.

"Because it's fun," he answered.

She kissed the top of his head and pulled him close, letting the heat of her body wash the tremors from his limbs.

"Yes," she said. "It is."

* * *

 

_"A man was found dead in the River Severn this morning. A local jogger spotted the body washed up against the shore and contacted authorities. The cause of death was reported to be drowning, and time of death was estimated to have been between two and three a.m. The victim was forty-year-old David Chase, who moved to Bristol eight years ago with his then-girlfriend to work as a contract engineer for Strife Solutions. He quickly climbed the ranks of the multi-billion-dollar company, and in 2029 was promoted to Head Engineer of the Personal Protective Equipment Department. He is survived by his wife—"_

Everyone was very carefully not looking at Nilesy, while the television news yammered on. Nilesy sat still, staring into space, his head tipped to one side while Panda dabbed pale cream onto his bruises.

"Honestly I don't see why you insist on covering them up," Panda said, tipping another blob of makeup onto his finger and tapping it onto Nilesy's neck.

"It's unprofessional," Nilesy said.

"So?" Lomadia asked.

"People would ask questions, Lom."

"Tell them your girlfriend did it. Then they'll know you're mine."

"That might not be a pershon'sh firsht reaction," Zylus remarked, poring over the morning newspaper's crossword.

"You could at least do it yourself," Panda said. He took Nilesy's chin in his hand and turned his head, then started working on the other set of bruises.

"I'd botch it horribly," Nilesy said.

"At first. You'd get better if you practiced."

He grinned. "You've got me. I just like having your hands on my neck."

Panda's hand faltered, and Lomadia heard his breath catch. She smiled to herself and adjusted her position on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't mind so much if they were mine," Panda mumbled. He put the cream away and took out a brush and some kind of sandy powder.

"You were sleeping," Lomadia said. "We didn't want to wake you."

_"I_ didn't want them to wake you," Zylus corrected.

"Thanks, Dad," Panda drawled.

"You've got school, darling," Nilesy said. "It's for the best, anyway."

"Maybe from where _you're_ sitting," he grumbled. He started applying the powder to Nilesy's neck with swift, firm strokes. Nilesy's eyes drifted closed, and his mouth curled into a smile.

"I'll make it up to you," Nilesy promised.

"Yeah? When?"

"How's tonight?"

"Fine. What'd you have in mind?"

"Can you pleashe dishcussh thish when I'm not in the room?" Zylus asked, putting a hand to his head.

"Sorry," said Panda. He turned Nilesy's head again and continued on the other side of his neck.

"Are you working today?" Lomadia asked.

"Me?" Zylus asked. "No, I'm taking the week off for when my _real_ job shtartsh on Monday. Why?"

"I've got a Smite tournament and I need teammate who hasn't got massive lag."

Zylus looked up from his crossword. "Sherioushly?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes. The others are American and they suck."

"I'm pretty sure I shuck too," Zylus said.

"You do," said Lomadia. "But you'll be sitting close enough for me to hit you when you get it wrong."

"Wow, that _really_ makesh me want to play with you," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"I won't hit very hard," she promised.

He sighed. "Fine. But you're playing me in Shmash afterwardsh sho I can kick your assh."

"Dibs on Zelda," said Lomadia.

_"God dammit!"_ Zylus cried. Panda laughed.

"You'd think you'd've learned by now," Panda remarked. "Pick a new fave, Zy. Or otherwise learn to call dibs."

"Ironic, how he never sees it coming," said Nilesy.

_"You_ two can shut up," Zylus snapped, jabbing his pencil at them. "I'll take you both out. No itemsh, Foxsh only, Final Deshtination."

"Fight me irl, nerd," Panda returned, grinning.

"Boys," Lomadia said. "You're both pretty."

"Aw, thanks, Lom," said Panda. He took out a different case of powder and a different brush, and dusted a light coating on Nilesy's neck. "Done."

Nilesy put a hand on the back of Panda's head, leaned in, and whispered in his ear. Panda's eyes got very wide, and he swallowed.

"O-oh," he said faintly. "Super."

"Good grief," Lomadia said, a grin spreading across her face. Nilesy looked over his shoulder at her and winked.

_"What,"_ Zylus interceded sharply, "ish a ten-letter word for _dishgusht?"_

"Repugnance?" Panda guessed.

"I like that word," Lomadia said. She repeated it to herself a few times, letting it roll around her mouth. It tasted of rotted meat.

"Is that some sort of hint?" Nilesy asked Zylus, clearly amused.

"I'd conshider it sherendipity," Zylus said, filling in a line of the crossword.

Lomadia shrugged her wings and glanced at the clock. She had to turn her head all the way around to do this.

"Panda, you'll be late unless you hurry," she said.

"Oh, shit," said Panda, scrambling to his feet. "What time's the train leave?"

"Sheven-thirty," Zylus said.

"Oh, _psh,"_ Panda scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Easy-peasy."

In a sudden blur, he was gone, darting off to his room. He zipped back out again a few seconds later, fully dressed and wrestling his hair into a ponytail.

"Niles, where've I put my insulin?" he asked, while his hair tried to snap the band he was using to tie it up.

"Table next to your bed, most likely," said Nilesy. Panda zipped off again and returned with his bookbag.

"Put it all in here last night, turns out," he said, swinging the bag onto his shoulder. "All right, I'm off. I should be back round two, I haven't got seminar today."

"Oh, good, for once I get to see you before I'm dragged off to hell," Nilesy said brightly.

"You're assuming I'll let you leave," Panda said. He bent down and kissed Nilesy quickly. "Bye, Niles."

"Learn lots," Nilesy said.

Panda darted over and kissed Lomadia on the cheek. She returned the gesture, then batted him with a wing.

"Go to school," she ordered.

Panda saluted smartly. "Yes, ma'am!" he said. He hurried to the door, ruffling Zylus's hair on the way by, and stepped out.

For few minutes, there was only the idle chatter of the television. Zylus threw his crossword and pencil down on the floor.

_"Shrtife fucking Sholutionsh?"_ he cried, his voice cracking.

Nilesy shrugged, although his smile had gone brittle.

"To be fair," he said, "I didn't know at the time."

"What the fuck ish _wrong_ with you?" he snapped.

"You know damn well what's wrong with me," Nilesy replied, and there was something terribly _cold_ in his voice. "But if you'd like to take another look, you're more than welcome."

"You're going to get ush all fucking killed. You know that, don't you? Shomeday they're going to catch up with you and then we're _all_ fucked."

"As I recall," Nilesy said, "I made that particular risk clear to you when you signed on."

"You're a fucking pshycopath."

Slowly, Nilesy got to his feet. His eyes were glittering, cold as gemstones. Zylus's whole body flickered for a moment, like a bad projection.

"Put a fiver in the jar," Nilesy said.

"Shorry," Zylus mumbled, fishing for his wallet, eyes averted. He got up out of his chair and shuffled over to the glass jar by the door, then stuffed a five-pound note into the slit in the top. The jar was about half-full of bills. Meekly, Zylus came back to his chair and sat down.

"Thank you," said Nilesy. He dropped on the sofa next to Lomadia and idly reached over his shoulder. She took his hand and squeezed it.

"How come I never get on the news?" she asked.

"Becaushe they shave the animal attacksh for later in—" Zylus began, and broke off suddenly.

Something struck at Lomadia's heart, chilly and hollow. She pulled her wings in tighter and set her jaw, looking out the window instead of at anyone in the room.

"And you never yell at her, either," Nilesy mused. "Why's that, I wonder? Couldn't be that you're _scared_ of her."

Zylus shook his head, clearly irritated. "Fuck'sh _shake,_ Nileshy, becaushe she never killsh _Shtrife fucking Sholutionsh_ employees."

"Not my fault," Nilesy reminded him.

"You didn't have to kill him!"

"Drown," he corrected.

"What'sh the fucking differenshe?"

Nilesy opened his mouth, stopped, and then shrugged. Idly, he rubbed at his eyebrow, halfway covering his face. "There isn't one, I s'pose. Hardly matters."

"Then why d'you alwaysh shay it?"

"Zylus darling, have we got to do this _every time?"_

"Every time you fucking _murder_ shomeone? Yesh, I think we fucking _do._ What were you _thinking?"_

"I'd think you could've figured that out on your own."

"Oh, fuck off, Nileshy, you fucking prick. Shomeday we're all going to be chained up under YogLabsh shomewhere and I hope to _God_ all your fucking _fun_ will've been worth it."

"Fun," said Nilesy, and he was using the voice that came out when he put the mask on. "Ahahah. Right."

Lomadia turned her head around to look at the clock again.

"Tournament starts in half an hour," she said.

"What—who caresh about the fucking tournament?" Zylus snapped.

She glared at him and spread her wings.

"I do," she said. "You're done yelling at Nilesy now. Go boot up."

"Lom, you really don't have to do this," Nilesy sighed, sounding normal again.

"I know," said Lomadia. "That's why you're supposed to say _thank you."_

"I didn't _ask_ you to do this," he said.

"I _know._ That's why you're supposed to say _thank you."_

"I think he'sh trying to shay he doeshn't want to be reshcued," Zylus said.

Lomadia glared at him.

"If that's what he's trying to say, why doesn't he say it?" she demanded. "Go. Boot. Up."

Zylus shot a sullen glance at Nilesy and jabbed a finger at him as he rose.

"We're not done talking about thish," he warned.

"I know," said Nilesy, his voice gone soft and gentle.

Zylus left the room, muttering to himself.

"You haven't got to keep on saving me, you know," Nilesy said quietly. "Once was enough."

"No," she said. "It wasn't. You keep getting un-saved."

"Ever wonder why that is?" he asked.

"No. It's because you can't take care of yourself."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Well," he sighed. "You're not wrong."

"I love you," she said abruptly. He looked up at her, tipping his head to one side.

"I love you, too," he replied, sounding puzzled. "Is everything all right, dear?"

She hesitated, then said, "No."

Shifting his position on the sofa, he leaned his head against her shin.

"D'you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She shrugged her wings and pulled her arms in to hug her own waist.

"Zylus thinks I'm an animal," she said, her voice small. "He thinks I can't help but kill people. He thinks I can't be blamed because I don't think. That's why he never yells at me. Because he thinks I'm not human."

Nilesy was quiet for some time.

"Did he say this to you?" he asked.

"No. Not really. But I can tell. I can _tell_ that's what he thinks. Can't you?"

"I . . . honestly hadn't noticed. I'm sorry, Lom. I hope it's not true. His anxiety makes him say stupid things sometimes, and he doesn't always mean them. He might be kicking himself even now. D'you want me to talk to him about it? I'm sure we can get it figured out."

She shook her head miserably.

"He's right," she said. "I don't think about it. I never have thought about it. Not when it was you and not when it's anybody else. They're rats and I kill them. Just like an animal."

"Lom, no, that's not true," Nilesy said, rolling up onto his knees and putting his hands on her feet. "Animals don't protect people, they don't _save_ people. They don't think and feel, and they certainly don't decide who _deserves_ to die. You're not an animal, Lom, and anyone who says otherwise is _wrong."_

"Then I'm a monster," she said darkly.

Nilesy took her face in his hands and ducked his head to look her in the eyes.

"Is that what you want to be?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

She blinked at him. There was a thick lump in her throat and a hollow ache in her bones.

"No," she croaked.

"Then you are _not,"_ he told her, "nor have you _ever_ been, a monster, Lomadia. You are an _angel._ You are what angels were _meant_ to be. No angel ever saved me, Lom. But you did."

"I don't want to be an angel, either," she whispered.

Nilesy's eyes flicked over her face, brimming with concern.

"What d'you want to be, Lom?" he asked.

"Normal," she blurted, and her voice cracked and sent a flood of emotion roaring through her. She curled up against herself, digging her fingers into her sides, folding her wings around the two of them as though she could shut out the rest of the world. There was an ache in her chest like someone had scooped out her heart and left a trinket in its place. She would have cried, but her tear ducts had mutated away long ago, and so she sobbed dryly while her nose ran and her clutching talons cracked the frame of the sofa.

"Oh, Lom," Nilesy said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Lomadia shook her head, and climbed off the couch, and went into her room. She booted up her gaming computer, started up Smite, and lost herself in the violence.

On the internet, at least, no one knew she was a freak.

 


	15. Chapter 14

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

A little after eleven thirty at night, Dish Boy came staggering out, hauling his huge bag of trash. Rythian opened the bin for him and held up a hand in greeting.

"Hi," he said. "Just me."

Dish Boy didn't respond. He heaved the bag up into the open bin and let it drop. His pretty green eyes looked particularly dead under the sickly orange glow of the streetlight. Rythian let the bin fall closed. Dish Boy turned to go, then stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back around and looked at Rythian.

"Hi," Rythian said again.

Dish Boy nodded to him, then started fiddling with his apron. He glanced at the door, and then at Rythian, and pushed a strand of hair out of his face with his wrist. He held up a finger.

"Not tonight," Rythian said gently. "I actually . . . I wanted to talk to you. About . . . me. And you. And this. Um. It's not as bad as it sounds, I promise."

Dish Boy frowned, concern supplanting misery on his face. Rythian shrugged and sighed.

"Look, I . . . I have a job. Sort of. I got hired. For lack of a better word. And it . . . I mean it pays, really, ludicrously well, and they're . . . feeding and housing me, and they've given me . . . all kinds of things, just for being . . . well, for playing nice with them, I guess. It's—it's YogLabs, I'm working for YogLabs now. I . . . never thought I would say that."

Dish Boy stood there staring at him, his face returned to its unhappy ground-state.

Fidgeting, Rythian went on. "So . . . so I guess what I'm trying to say is: we're . . . probably not going to meet like this again. Um. Ever. But—but I would—that is to say, I would like to . . . keep seeing you somewhere else. Maybe. If . . . that's okay. And even if that's not something you want, I would hate to just— _leave_ you here, without saying anything. So—so that's my . . . situation. I just . . . yeah."

For several seconds, Dish Boy just stood there staring at him. Then, suddenly and without warning, he flung his arms around Rythian's waist and squeezed him hard, his hands clenched on the back of Rythian's new jacket. Rythian jerked in surprise; then, carefully, he put his hands on Dish Boy's shoulders. He could feel the other man's breath through his shirt, warm and moist.

"I'm sorry," Rythian said softly.

Dish Boy shook his head vehemently and squeezed tighter.

"I—okay," said Rythian. "Thank you?"

With a sniffle, Dish Boy let go of him and stepped back. He straightened his apron, glanced at the door again, and held up a finger. Rythian raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay," he said.

Dish Boy hurried back inside, and Rythian wrapped his arms around his own waist, holding in the warmth. A few minutes later, Dish Boy came back with the usual white take-out box. He held it out to Rythian. His fingernails, Rythian noticed, were painted a lovely powder-blue, although the polish had chipped.

"I like your fingernails," Rythian remarked, accepting the box from him.

The corner of Dish Boy's mouth twitched in something that just _might_ have been a smile. He dropped his gaze and fidgeted. Rythian looked down at the box in his hands.

Under the large words _DISHER SHIFT,_ there was a new addition to the box, also hastily scrawled in sharpie, although in a different hand.

It was a phone number, and a heart. Rythian looked up, startled and blushing, just in time to catch a quick kiss on the respirator. Then Dish Boy scurried off, yanking the door closed behind him. Rythian stood there, stunned, swaying on his feet, his cheeks burning, his heart pounding.

"Oh," he said faintly.

He tottered off into the darkness with his head spinning, picking cheesy noodles from the take-out container and tucking them under his respirator.

* * *

 

"How do I send a text message without touching a phone?" Rythian asked, lying on the sofa with his feet propped up on the armrest. It had been twelve hours since Dish Boy had given him his number, and Rythian had thought of almost nothing else in the interim.

"Why d'you need to know?" Nano replied, looking over her shoulder from her spot at the computers.

"Curiosity?" Rythian said.

"You've got someone to text," Nano said. "Who?"

"No one," said Rythian. "It's not important. Forget I asked. Where's Lalna, anyway?"

"In their room. They've got a new personal project, they were _adamant_ that no one was to come in until it was done. Seriously, who're you texting?"

Rythian fidgeted, then sighed.

"Dish Boy gave me his number," he admitted.

_"Aww!"_ Nano squealed. "Wait, hang on though, does this mean you've got over your thing for Lalna, or—"

"I don't have a _thing_ for Lalna!" Rythian objected hotly.

"Yes you have," Nano said.

"No, I—it'd be weird, they're like _two,_ I don't have a _thing_ for a _two-year-old."_

"Riiiiight," she drawled. "All the two-year-olds _I_ know want to go on dates with cute homeless boys who wander in off the street."

"Did they say that?" Rythian blurted, sitting up. "About dates?"

Nano regarded him knowingly. Rythian blushed and ran a hand back through his hair.

"I—I mean, not that—you should probably tell them to not . . . do that. Since they're two."

"If it makes you feel any better, they were in production for a good fifteen years," Nano said. "So _technically_ they're like, seventeen!"

"That's _worse!"_ he cried, suddenly feeling squeamish.

"Really? How old are you, anyway?"

"Th . . . thirty-two," Rythian admitted, mumbling.

"Oh, well, you're not _even_ twice their age!" Nano said brightly. "I mean, not by _much,_ but it's something!"

Rythian glared at her.

"You're enjoying this," he said, "aren't you."

_"Immensely._ How old's your dish boy, then?"

"Oh, don't _start."_

"You don't know, do you."

Rythian lay back down, rolled over, and began determinedly trying to squeeze himself between the sofa cushions.

"If you'll excuse me," he said, "I'm going to become a potato and take root in this sofa."

"You're a cradle-robber, you are."

"I can't hear you, because I'm a potato now. Don't speak to me or my sprouts ever again."

"D'you think they flock to you 'cause you're _also_ a baby?"

Rythian had managed to get one arm and one leg into the sofa, and was working on wriggling the rest of himself through the gap.

"Potatoes like me don't have feelings that can be hurt," he declared, muffled by an inconvenient cushion. "Our tubers are impervious to emotional pain."

"All right, all right, I'm done," Nano said. "I'll see what I can do about getting you set up. I could just text him for you, would that work?"

"No," said Rythian, still speaking into the cushion. He stuck his face into the gap between the sofa's back and its cushions and sighed.

"Oh, is it going to be _that_ sort of texting," Nano said wickedly.

"Potatoes don't have these kinds of problems," Rythian muttered.

"How about a stylus? And maybe a pair of those electrical gloves? D'you think that'd work?"

"Maybe?" said Rythian.

"We'll give it a shot. All right, here's a question for you, then: have you got a _phone?"_

"No," he admitted.

"You're hopeless. C'mon, get up, we're going shopping."

Rythian wiggled, then stopped, his skin burning.

"Um," he said. "I'm stuck."

It took Nano five whole minutes to stop laughing long enough to help.

* * *

 

At ten twenty-five p.m. on the day after Dish Boy had scribbled his number on a greasy take-out box, Rythian sent his very first text.

 

_Hi!! Just me!! Rythian!_

 

It had taken him half an hour to write it, typing in and subsequently deleting a thousand different attempts with a thin little stylus while clutching the phone in one gloved hand, and he still hated it, and he sent it anyway.

Five minutes passed while he stared at the phone. His hands were sweating profusely, sticking to the insides of the new rubber gloves. He almost wished he hadn't waited until Nano had gone to bed, so he could ask her what a normal amount of time to wait would be.

The phone buzzed in his hand, and he dropped it. Fumbling, he picked it up off the floor.

_1 New Message,_ the phone said. Rythian poked around with the stylus until he managed to get to the message screen. He'd spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening figuring out all of the phone's functions, from making it give him directions to learning the rules of its mindless little games, and every last bit of it had fallen out of his head in the excitement of the moment.

The message read:

 

_Unit 5, Central Ave, Severn Beach, Bristol BS10 7ZE_

 

Rythian stared blankly at it. The phone buzzed again, and a second message popped up underneath the first. Rythian's stomach started to churn with directionless dread.

 

_I'll be alone. Will you?_

 

He swallowed. His heart was pounding, the sweat from his gloved hands trickling down to his elbows. He had just started writing a puzzled reply when yet another text came in.

 

_One hour.  
_ _< 3, Nilesy_

 

Rythian's heart stopped. He clenched his hand on the phone and snapped the stylus between his shaking fingers.

"You son of a _bitch,"_ he hissed at the phone. "You fucking son of a _bitch!"_

The phone did not buzz again. Seething with rage, Rythian forced himself to stay calm long enough to look up the address. It was a warehouse by the river, amongst a huge complex of other warehouses. It was seventeen miles away.

Rythian threw the phone and the broken stylus down on the table and stalked out into the streets, his vision blurred by a red haze, sparks skittering across his skin.

He stole the first car he came across. They were surprisingly easy to hotwire, when you carried around as much spare voltage as Rythian did.

* * *

 

Central Avenue, contrary to its name, was in the middle of nowhere. It led into a huge swath of warehouses, each more decrepit than the last, spreading across the riverbank like an industrial mildew. Half the outdoor lights had burned out, and although there was a gate, it stood open, slipped from its rusting tracks long ago. Rythian abandoned the stolen car just inside the gate and searched for Unit 5 on foot. Something about the complex set him on edge, but he couldn't quite place what it was. Absently, he rubbed at his wrists.

He found the specified unit at the very back of the complex, right up against the river. The lights were on inside. Rythian stormed up and kicked the door open, lightning trailing his every movement.

Nilesy stood in the center of the warehouse, hands clasped behind his back, watching the door intently. There were drains in the floor, and the sound of running water bubbled up through them. Rythian walked a few steps inside and stopped. The door clicked closed behind him.

"Where is he?" Rythian snarled, electricity crackling through his hair, snapping off his clenched fists.

Nilesy smiled and pulled a clunky black phone from his pocket.

"Missing his phone, I'd imagine," he said, amused.

"Bullshit. What've you done with him?"

"Come now, Rythian," he purred. "You can't tell me you actually _care_ about that sniveling little brat."

A spark leapt from Rythian's fist and earthed in the floor, leaving a charred circle on the concrete. Arcs of electricity were climbing up between his legs, wriggling in the spaces between his arms and his body.

"Fuck you," he spat.

"What's his name, then?" Nilesy inquired politely.

Rythian stood there fuming, so angry he could scarcely breathe, shedding lightning like a Tesla coil. Nilesy made a smug little noise and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

"Really, Rythian, ask yourself: would I have gone to all the trouble of kidnapping some miserable nobody when I could get the job done just as well with a few little texts? Certainly leaves fewer bodies, in the end."

Rythian spent a few moments trying to wrestle himself under control. Even if Nilesy was lying, it did Rythian no favors to walk into this encounter blinded by rage.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"We'll get to that," Nilesy assured him. "I honestly didn't think you'd come. Certainly not alone. Didn't bring your so-called _friends_ with you?"

"No," said Rythian coldly.

"Well, color me pleasantly surprised," Nilesy said. "Here I was, thinking I'd overestimated your character."

"So where's _your_ team?" Rythian asked, his lip curling.

"Oh, they're about. Not here." His voice lowered and softened. "Not for this."

"Do you mind telling me what _this—"_ he waved a hand— "actually is?"

Nilesy regarded him for a long moment, then smiled.

"You _did_ come here to kill me, didn't you?" he inquired. "I wouldn't want them to have to see that. It'd be rather . . . shocking, hm?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Eh?" Nilesy prompted, grinning. _"Eh?_ Shocking?"

Rythian glared at him, fuming.

"No?" said Nilesy, and sighed, rolling his eyes. _"Fine,_ I'll laugh at my own fucking jokes. Christ, I've got to do _everything_ round here." He clapped his hands together and threw his head back. _"Shocking!_ Ahahah, good one, Nilesy, very clever."

"Are you done?" Rythian asked coldly.

"Done? God, no, I'm just getting started. I've got a _million_ of 'em."

"If you knew I was coming here to kill you," Rythian growled, "why did you come alone? Why did you even _ask_ me here?"

Nilesy spread his hands and shrugged.

"Because I don't think you can do it," he said.

"Like it's hard? It can't be, if _you've_ been doing it."

"Practice makes perfect, darling," Nilesy purred, eyes gleaming. "Let me rephrase, then: I don't think you _will_ do it."

"Interesting idea," said Rythian, though his heart was pounding and his palms were sweating.

"You're all joined up with YogLabs now, aren't you?" Nilesy asked. "They're the big _heroes,_ or so they love to tell us. And we all know heroes don't kill people. So today, we're going to find out if you really are one."

"You're willing to risk your life for _that?"_ Rythian demanded, incredulous.

Nilesy grinned. "No," he said candidly.

"You're out of your mind," Rythian told him.

"I'm proving a _point,"_ Nilesy said.

_"What_ point?"

With a wink, Nilesy answered, "You'll see. If you're not going to kill me right away, though, I _did_ have a few things I wanted to say."

Rythian folded his arms. "This should be good," he said.

"D'you want to know about the heroes you've joined up with?" Nilesy asked. "The heroic things they've done? I'm sure you know some of it already. Even being homeless, it's hard to miss. I should know."

Against his better judgement, Rythian thought about this.

"What . . . _kinds_ of things?" he asked slowly.

"Oh, only the most heroic. They're all about protecting innocent people, are YogLabs. Not people like you and me, of course, ahah, because we're not really _people."_

"I'm nothing like you," Rythian snapped.

Nilesy shrugged. "According to YogLabs you are. We're all _freaks_ to them. Dangerous, inhuman _freaks._ But they employ some of us, so of course you couldn't say they _hate_ us."

The slur, _freak,_ made Rythian's blood burn. It wasn't any less repugnant coming from Nilesy than it would have been from the mouth of some furious drunkard.

"Did you have a point," he said sharply, "or are you just stalling?"

"Why can't it be both?" Nilesy asked, grinning. "D'you want to know what they did in dear old Scotland? Oh, you wouldn't've heard about it down here, and they weren't doing nearly as much of it south of the border, but _God,_ it was something else."

Rythian clenched his jaw and said nothing. His nerves were singing with a kind of dreadful apprehension. Nilesy's eyes glittered like emeralds behind the mask.

"It all started with a bit of stubbornness," Nilesy said softly. "You know how the Scottish are. Weren't too keen on signing their people up for Xephos's little Registry. Of course, that's illegal, because God only knows what we'd do if there were a bunch of mutants running about pretending to be _real_ people. Dangerous things, aren't they? So YogLabs got the brilliant idea to take it out on the Registered ones. There's no such thing as an _innocent_ freak after all, so clearly they're just as dangerous. And a lot easier to find."

Something had changed in Nilesy's demeanor, a darkening of his being. He had gone steely as the ocean under storm clouds, his words knife-edged.

"So they rounded up _all_ those lovely registered people, and they put them in pens, like animals. And they enslaved them for their labor or their Powers until they dropped _dead._ Like animals. And anyone who tried to escape, anyone who tried to get free, was slaughtered. Like a fucking _animal._ Because that's what we are to them, Rythian. That's all we have ever been. And if you're being pampered, it's only because they find you more useful when you're upright. For the moment."

"Enough," Rythian said thinly.

"No, really it wasn't," he went on. "After that, of course, nobody wanted to register, ahahah, can't imagine why. But that was simply unacceptable. Innocent people could be hurt, you know. So YogLabs continued their streak of fucking brilliant decisions and carpet-bombed half the fucking country. For five years. Thirty thousand people died."

_"Enough,"_ Rythian repeated, clenching his fists. Something had come loose inside him and was rattling around against his ribcage, sickening him.

"Still no," Nilesy sighed. "It wasn't a very good strategy, which is why they stopped. A lot of _real_ people died, too, and that, well, that just defeated the whole purpose. Not that they cared much, I think, but people started kicking up a fuss. So _then,_ then they decided: why not let the innocent people do our work for us? And they published their little Registry. I haven't got the numbers to hand, but they were lynching people in the streets. Ghastly. Could hardly go a block without seeing blood on the pavement."

"Stop. Talking," Rythian ordered, his voice shaking.

"Stop listening," Nilesy countered. "Problem with that is, a whole lot of innocent people died, in the process of lynching their countrymen. Seems Xephos had forgotten, in all his goddamn brilliance, that we're _dangerous._ That's why he built Lalna, you know. To kill us. One by one, personally. Because killing a person—despite what you think—is hard. No, I'm serious, I should know. Anything that even _looks_ like a person, it really gets into the little lizard spaces of your brain. It's just a moment of hesitation, but that's all something like Lalna would need to, oh I don't know, blow a person's head clean off. You can't just murder something with a face without flinching, not unless you're a soldier. And we're not soldiers. We can't be. If we started making ourselves an army, they'd just bomb us again."

"Stop," he whispered.

"Lalna isn't just a weapon, Rythian," Nilesy said, relentless. "It's a machine for murder. It was _made_ to slaughter us, and you and all your Division friends are there to help. You're dogs who've been trained to tear the throats out of wolves while the hunters get their guns. But the _second_ you stop doing your job, they'll skin you alive to make their coats. This is what these _heroes_ stand for, this is what they _are._ They're going to make the world safe for people like them by slaughtering people like us, and Lalna is the butcher's knife."

Rythian swallowed, saying nothing. Nilesy held out a hand to him.

"So are you a hero," he asked softly, "or not?"

The silence stretched long between them, while Rythian's heart fluttered and his dynamo whirred and his blood roared in his ears.

"When I kill you," Rythian said, trembling where he stood, "I'm going to choke the fucking life out of you, so that you know what it feels like to run out of air."

Nilesy let his hand fall back to his side and smiled wryly.

"You say that as if I don't already know," he remarked.

Then, to Rythian's horror, he started walking forward, unhurried. Rythian took a startled step back, but Nilesy continued to advance, stopping only when he was a few bare feet from Rythian, holding his gaze the entire way.

"Go on, then," he invited gently, lifting his chin.

Rythian's heart skipped a beat and his stomach flipped. His hands were shaking, his eyes fixed on Nilesy's pale, exposed throat. His palms tingled, imagining the feeling of crushing Nilesy's trachea, of feeling him squirm and writhe in powerless desperation. He swallowed again, feeling like he was going to be sick.

A slow smile curled out across Nilesy's face.

"Can't promise I won't enjoy it, though," he added playfully.

Rythian went for him, snarling.

Nilesy caught Rythian's wrists, both at once, his grip like a vice. Rythian grabbed for his throat anyway, but Nilesy held him back. Rythian tried to jerk his arms away, to rip them out of Nilesy's hands, but he clung on.

"Let _go!"_ Rythian cried. Nilesy let out a mad, nervous giggle.

"Oh, God in heaven," he breathed. "I really haven't thought this through."

Rythian stood still for a moment. He could feel Nilesy's pulse, tapping at his wrists through the other man's bare palms. He hesitated, catching his breath, watching Nilesy's eyes as Nilesy watched his.

"I only have to get one hand free to kill you," Rythian told him.

Nilesy giggled again, breathless and terrified. "Yes! I know! I _really_ haven't thought this through!"

Something about that laugh set Rythian's spine to tingling, and the intensity with which Nilesy held his gaze made his breath come short.

"Shall we dance?" Nilesy asked quietly, an undercurrent of excitement in his voice.

Rythian yanked one arm back sharply, twisting his wrist in Nilesy's grasp, and kicked a foot out to sweep his legs out from under him. Nilesy yelped and pivoted in place to keep his hand on Rythian's wrist. Rythian's foot cracked against one of his shins, but he managed to keep his feet. He laughed again. Rythian swung him around, using the momentum of his pivot, and then threw his weight forward, forcing Nilesy to stumble backwards until he slammed into the wall so hard Rythian _heard_ all the air go out of him. His hands only tightened on Rythian's wrists, white with strain and cutting off the circulation to Rythian's fingers, digging powder-blue fingernails deep into the skin.

Rythian was halfway through wrenching one hand loose when his whole world dropped into slow motion.

One by one, details clicked together in his head—the pretty green eyes, the dark hair, the line of his jaw; the mouth, no longer smiling, suddenly familiar; the tell-tale chipped polish on the close-cut fingernails.

Recognition hit him like a swift punch to the gut, and his jaw dropped, and he aborted his attempt to free himself just shy of electrocuting _Dish Boy._

Puzzlement flicked across Nilesy's countenance, his head tipping to one side, and then his face went blank as he took in Rythian's expression.

_"You?"_ Rythian whispered, all the conviction choked out of him.

The corner of Nilesy's mouth twitched.

"Hi," he said.

"You—but—you—" Rythian sputtered. His head had filled up with air, and his guts were tying themselves in knots.

"Yeah, I know!" said Nilesy, as though it was some cruel joke that had been played on the two of them.

"How are you— _why_ are you—"

_"Are_ you still going to kill me?" Nilesy inquired politely. "Only, if you're not, we could maybe have this discussion without any potentially deadly touching?"

"I . . . yeah," Rythian managed. There was a roaring in his ears, like the rushing of a river in flood. "That's . . . we can do that."

Nilesy let go of his wrists, and Rythian backed away a step, rubbing the circulation back into his hands. Nilesy shook out his hands, adjusted his mask, and smiled wryly at Rythian. He shrugged.

"Sorry about this," he said.

"It's—" Rythian began.

Nilesy flicked a hand, and a mass of water slammed into Rythian so hard it threw him across the room. It wrapped around him in a massive tendril and picked him up off the floor, crushing the air from his lungs. Water was pouring up from the drains in the floor, frothing with a life of its own. Nilesy approached slowly, one hand outstretched, his expression pensive.

"What—" Rythian gasped, thrashing uselessly.

"Thanks for not killing me," Nilesy said. "Hope you don't mind if I don't return the favor. I _have_ to kill you now, y'see." He tapped the mask with the index finger of his free hand. "No one's supposed to know what's underneath. Except my team, of course, but, hah, you've made it doubly clear now how you feel about _that_ business."

"Wait—wait!" he cried. His lungs were already starting to burn with the memory of drowning. "You—we—we're . . . we're like friends. Right?"

"No," Nilesy explained patiently. "You and that miserable, cringing _pushover_ Liam are friends."

"Liam?" Rythian asked, desperate. He was still kicking his legs, for all the good it would do him. "Is that—is that your name? Liam?"

"My fucking _name_ is _Nilesy,"_ Nilesy snarled. He tightened his hand on the air, and the water squeezed around Rythian, snapping two of his ribs like twigs. Rythian cried out sharply, redoubling his efforts to get free. His arms were pinned so tight against his sides that it was straining his shoulders.

"Okay!" Rythian gasped. "Okay, Nilesy, I'm sorry!"

The rage on Nilesy's face simmered down and was covered over with an easy smile.

"Good," he said. "Apology accepted. Now, question: would you like to have a quick death, or leave a pretty corpse? Because I can do you one or the other, but not both."

"Please," Rythian begged, his heart pounding. "Please don't kill me. Please, I—I can keep this secret, I won't tell a soul—"

"You've met Zylus," Nilesy said. "Right?"

Thrown for a loop, Rythian just guessed, "Yes?"

"Good! Then you understand that not every secret is necessarily yours to keep. Besides, if Xephos takes it into his head to really _try_ and find me, ahah. I wouldn't put a bit of friendly torture past him." He shrugged. "Sorry. Wish you hadn't recognized me, not much can be done about it now. It's been lovely, Rythian. Honestly. And thanks for the eighty pounds that one time. Spent every last penny of it on the tank I drowned you in. It _did_ make me happy, though, so at least you've got that."

"You're out of your mind," Rythian croaked, his words heavy with horror. His head was starting to spin from the pain and the lack of oxygen.

"You keep saying that, like I don't know," Nilesy said. "I _did_ try to offer you a job first. And then you tried to kill me."

"I wasn't _trying_ to kill you!" he cried, his voice cracking.

"Well, and I didn't _succeed_ in killing _you,"_ he replied evenly. "So it all balances out in the end."

"I could—I could have killed you, earlier, just now, and I didn't! Where's the balance for that? Nilesy?"

Nilesy tutted and shook his head. "Rythian, there's _balance,_ and then there's _idiocy."_

"Please," Rythian whispered. "Please, no. Please, God, no, Nilesy, please—"

"Stop talking," he snapped. The tendril of water tightened around Rythian again, and another rib cracked.

_"Please!"_ he screamed, thrashing violently, the pain of the broken bones filling up his body with numbing heat.

Nilesy stared up at him, his jaw tight, his upraised hand quivering with tension or exertion, his breath coming short.

Suddenly, he cursed vehemently and tore the mask off. His raised hand dropped to his side and the tendril holding Rythian up collapsed, splashing back to earth in a sudden flood. Rythian landed hard and lay on his back, gasping for breath while trying not to let his ribcage move.

Nilesy stood there trembling, head bowed, his hair falling over his face. He seemed to be having almost as hard a time breathing as Rythian, and his shoulders were hunched. If nothing before had confirmed his identity for Rythian, that moment, that ashamed and defeated posture, would have irrevocably driven it home. He was, only for a moment, just Dish Boy.

Slowly, he put the mask back on and straightened up, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, and he was Nilesy again.

"You only get one," he said quietly, and turned on his heel, and strode out. Rythian watched him go, then let his head fall back on the wet concrete floor.

"Spent it on the fucking tank," he whispered to himself.

 


	16. Chapter 15

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Rythian dragged himself home with his broken ribs in his stolen car, soaked to the skin and shivering. He left the car back approximately where he'd found it, although the window was smashed and the electronics in the dashboard would certainly never work again. He let himself into Nano and Lalna's house with the keycard Xephos had given him and went straight to the freezer, pulling out not only an icepack but also two bags of frozen peas. He went back into the living room and delicately laid himself down on the couch, then positioned the pack and bags over his broken ribs. He rested his head on the arm of the couch and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside.

His head was buzzing like a generator, swarming with electric words. He couldn't tell if it was that or the pain that was making him so nauseous, that was causing the trembling weakness in his limbs. He kept coming back, over and over, to the damning enumeration of YogLabs's crimes, their gruesome intentions for Lalna.

It seemed too horrible to be true. Surely, _surely_ Nilesy had been making it up, had been lying through his teeth just to get a rise out of Rythian. Of course he would want to turn his enemies against each other, of course he would plant the seeds of doubt in their minds. He wanted Lalna dead, that much was clear, and so was it really so far-fetched that he would lie and cheat and weasel his way into Rythian's heart however he could—Rythian, who could kill Lalna with a single incautious touch? It was, he thought, what he himself would have done under the circumstances.

What he would have done if he were a vicious, murderous _madman,_ he corrected himself.

And yet, there was still a lingering doubt, a thread of truth amongst the woven lies. There was, after all, a good reason why Rythian had never registered, why he had kept to the shadows and avoided contact with YogLabs at all costs.

He had been in England when the Registry had been published, seven years ago, and he had seen more than one Powered citizen dragged into the streets and beaten because their name was on the list. The only reason Rythian himself had escaped such a fate, despite being obviously Powered, was because people didn't generally tend to pick fights with someone who had lightning coming out of their fists.

Still, there was nothing to back up the claim that YogLabs had _planned_ for the lynchings to happen, not a shred of evidence that it had been anything but an unfortunate mistake. They had, in fact, encouraged the populace to remain calm and peaceful, to not engage with those who were Powered—that was, so they'd said over innumerable news broadcasts, what the Division was for. . . .

Rythian's jaw clenched, and he lay staring up at the ceiling, unblinking.

"That _is_ what the Division's for, isn't it," he growled to himself. "God _dammit."_

Pieces began to click into place, fitting terribly well. You never saw a Powered truant again. No one got on the news twice. They _claimed_ rehabilitation, certainly, but had anyone ever _spoken_ with someone who'd been rehabilitated? Had anyone ever _seen_ someone who had been? Or had they simply vanished, with a quiet word from Xephos and a friendly hand on their shoulder, and good riddance anyway?

With a cold and sinking feeling, Rythian had to admit to himself that Nilesy _might_ have been telling the truth about YogLabs.

But it was a long distance from that to claiming that Lalna was _built_ for murder, even taking the laser rifles into consideration. Granted, they did have some . . . _strange_ ideas about what was normal—clearly all Xephos's fault anyway—but _murder?_ He tried to envision them blowing the head off of some unsuspecting mutant, and. . . .

And it worked surprisingly, uncomfortably well.

Rythian shook himself, shifting on the couch and rearranging the ice packs on his chest. He cursed himself for letting Nilesy get so far into his head. The man was clearly a lunatic, hell-bent on his mad crusade against a _two-year-old,_ and never mind that the two-year-old just _happened_ to have laser rifles and a titanium-plated body.

Lalna wouldn't hurt a fly. Just because they _could_ didn't mean they were necessarily _going_ to. No one could help the way they were made.

They certainly didn't deserve to die for it.

Rythian mulled that over for a while, and decided that the next time he ran into Nilesy, he was going to throw it in his teeth and watch him choke on it.

* * *

 

When the ice packs had gotten warm, Rythian hunted up some painkillers and went to nap on the couch until the peas refroze. He was, evidently, a good deal more tired than he'd thought, because when he woke up, light was streaming in through the windows and his whole chest was swollen and inflamed. Someone was in the kitchen, cooking, and Rythian peeled himself off the couch to find out who.

Nano looked over her shoulder at him, prodding a half-cooked pancake with a spatula.

"You're up early," she said, and then her eyes narrowed. "And looking a bit peaky. You all right?"

"I had a very long night," Rythian said carefully. He tottered to the freezer and took out his icepacks again, then took them back to the couch and lay down with them, wincing at every movement.

A few minutes later, Nano was standing over him, arms folded, tapping her foot.

"Must've been one hell of a date," she said dryly.

"Please don't," said Rythian. "Please, just . . . don't."

"If you're going to come home beaten up, I'm going to wonder who's done the beating," Nano said. "Sorry. Just nosy by nature, I suppose."

Rythian hesitated, then said, "I . . . I had a—a talk. With. . . ." He took as deep a breath as he could and finished, "With Nilesy."

"You did _what?"_ Nano cried.

"Not on purpose! I wasn't trying—I thought he—look, i-it was all very confusing and it wasn't like—"

_"Alone?_ What the fuck were you _thinking,_ he could've _killed_ you! Why didn't you wake me up?"

Rythian pulled up short. A slow flush rose to his cheeks and he fidgeted.

"I . . . it's just that . . . he said to come alone," he said lamely.

"And you _did?_ Christ, you're an idiot! You _never_ come alone when they tell you to come alone!" She stiffened, then glared down at him with her eyes narrowed. "How did he get in contact with you?"

"Um," said Rythian, his brain spinning its wheels uselessly. "You . . . you remember how . . . how Dish Boy gave me his number?"

"Yes," Nano said, clearly suspicious.

Rythian fidgeted again. Unbidden, the memory of that quick, shy kiss on his respirator swam up in his mind, the warmth of arms flung around his waist, the bowed head and shaking shoulders of a man who _hadn't been able to kill him._ He looked away, biting his lip.

"Nilesy . . . got hold of his phone. Somehow," he lied. "I—I thought . . . it seemed like, you know. . . ."

"You thought he was in trouble," Nano filled in, her voice gone soft.

"Yes," said Rythian, with some relief. That much, at least, was absolutely true.

"I still don't understand why you would go alone," she said. "I mean, it could've gone _really poorly,_ Rythian. You could've died."

"You're telling me," he grumbled, while his lungs ached with the memory of suffocation.

Nano sat down on the arm of the sofa and crossed her legs. She folded her hands on her knee and sighed.

"Listen, Rythian," she said. "I know you . . . don't really get on well with the Division. Honestly I don't blame you, I know we can be a bit off-putting—some of us more than others, I'm not saying Xephos—but . . . Lalna and I are your _friends,_ Rythian. Or at the very least we'd like to be. And if you can't trust the Division—and I'm really not saying that's unreasonable—but if you can't trust them, I really, really hope you can trust _us._ Because—well, because I personally would be a bit . . . put out. If you were to die. All alone in the middle of the night. And I _know_ Lalna would be."

Rythian let this settle in his head, chewing it over like toffee.

"Fair enough," he said at last.

Nano raised her eyebrows at him. "That's it? That's all you've got to say? Just, _fair enough?"_

Eyes darting, Rythian guessed, "Yes?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're _hopeless._ Don't leave those icepacks on for more than twenty minutes, either, you'll get frostbite. D'you want some tea? You giant, hopeless idiot?"

Rythian rubbed his face and sighed.

"Tea would be nice," he admitted.

* * *

 

A few hours later, just as Rythian was certain his brain was going to drip out his ears from sheer boredom, Lalna sat down on the floor in front of him and set out a thick coil of copper tube and a shiny metal plug on the throw rug. Rythian watched them carefully, trying to keep his heart rate normal.

"Would you like to see a magic trick?" Lalna asked.

"I—what?" said Rythian, thrown for a loop.

"You had a very bad night and you're unhappy," Lalna said. "I want to cheer you up. Magic tricks make _me_ happy, so I have devised a magic trick."

Slowly, Rythian sat up, considering Lalna dubiously.

"A magic trick from a robot," he said. "Okay, I think I have to see this."

Lalna nodded, then picked up the copper coil, holding each end between a finger and a thumb.

"Please drop the iron plug through the coil," they requested.

Rythian reached down, moving carefully so as to avoid agitating his broken ribs. He picked up the plug and rolled it in his palm, eyeing the copper coil.

"Is this . . . safe?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lalna. "It's only a trick."

"N-no, I mean . . . is it safe for me to . . . be that close. To you. With the hands and everything."

Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"I believe so," they said. "I have noted that you possess an abnormally small spark gap for someone of your voltage, as is indicated by the fact that you are not constantly grounded by virtue of being barefoot. I have surmised that, since the primary function of your voltage is to facilitate teleportation, your body is designed to retain as much charge as possible, and that your skin acts as a significant insulator. Although its capabilities appear to decline significantly when you are agitated. That, or your voltage increases considerably."

Rythian blinked at them.

"Oh," he said.

Lalna shrugged. "This is only a hypothesis. It would require significant testing to confirm its validity. But I will not ask you to undergo testing, because it's your body and it isn't my business."

"R-right. Okay. Um . . . thank you," said Rythian. He rubbed the back of his head.

After a moment, Lalna repeated, "Please drop the iron plug through the coil."

Rythian steadied himself, then took the plug between his thumb and middle finger and held it six inches above the copper coil. He dropped it, and it fell through, plunking to the ground.

"Incredible," Rythian said dryly.

"That was not the magic trick," said Lalna. "Trade with me."

They set the copper coil down and took the iron plug. Apprehensive, Rythian picked up the coil and turned it in his hands.

"One end in each hand, please," Lalna instructed. Rythian held it as he was told. There was a strange sensation in his fingers, as though some invisible foam was pushing out through either end of the coil, pressing against his skin.

"So . . . is this the magic trick?" Rythian asked, nervous.

"Yes," said Lalna. "Watch."

They dropped the iron plug into the coil. It stopped halfway through, hovering in place, and began to spin slowly as it vibrated.

Rythian's jaw dropped, and he gasped in utter, childish delight.

"Tada!" Lalna chimed.

"How is it _doing_ that?" Rythian cried, his voice cracking in his excitement. The iron plug was spinning faster, jigging up and down in the middle of the copper coil.

"Electromagnetism," Lalna said. "You should let go before its temperature rises much further. It will eventually start to melt."

_"Melt?"_

"Yes. You should let go before then."

Rythian dropped the copper coil. Both it and the iron plug clattered to the floor. It could have been Rythian's imagination, but the iron plug looked like it was smoking.

Lalna's eyes were a bright, summertime green, and they were resting their thumbnails against their lips.

"You are very cute," they said quietly.

Rythian blushed and scratched the back of his head, looking anywhere but at Lalna.

"I—well—thank . . . thank you," he sputtered. "So—so what . . . just happened? I guess—well, if you're not supposed to explain the magic trick, then, I mean, fair enough, but—"

Lalna's eyes shaded to blue and they turned their face towards the fallen copper and iron.

"You made it into an electromagnet," they said. "An electric current generates a magnetic field. By directing your voltage through the copper, you created an electric current, which in turn generated a strong magnetic field in the center of the coil. This field was strong enough to cancel out the pull of gravity on the iron plug, causing it to appear to levitate."

"Oh," said Rythian. "Well . . . all right. That's . . . still! Really cool!"

Lalna nodded. "I am glad it made you happy."

Frowning, uneasy, Rythian asked, "Lalna, are you . . . okay?"

They hesitated, then answered, "No."

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

Lalna shrugged, their eyes dimming and turning purple.

"I think you're very cute and I really like you," they said. "You don't feel the same way about me."

A ball of ice settled into the pit of Rythian's stomach, and he struggled to drag words out of the slurry of his brain.

"I—well that's not—that's not . . . really . . . _true,"_ he managed.

Lalna's head snapped up, and Rythian flinched.

"It's not?" they asked, their eyes ticking up towards green, shade by shade.

"Well—well no," said Rythian. His tongue had grown fat and heavy in his mouth, his throat narrowed until it made his voice squeak. His face was burning. "No, I . . . I actually . . . _do_ think you're. Y'know. Um. Cute. A-and I . . . I like you. A lot. A . . . just, a lot."

"You do?" Lalna said, perking up. Their eyes had found that brilliant summer green again.

Rythian rubbed his eyebrow and sighed.

"Yes. But . . . but Lalna, I don't . . . I don't think we should—it's just that, I don't think this is—look, what I'm trying to say is. . . ." He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. "I'm . . . I'm fifteen _years_ older than you, and it's not . . . right. It doesn't feel right. It feels like—like taking advantage of you, and I wish it was different, but it's not, and I just can't . . . I just _can't._ I'm sorry, I really am, but it's just . . . it's not going to . . . work. With us. I'm sorry."

For a long time, there was silence.

"Oh," Lalna said softly. Rythian didn't dare to look at them, for fear it would break his heart irreparably.

"It's not—it's not you, it's really not," Rythian went on, his mouth running on automatic. "There's nothing wrong with—with you, or . . . it's just that it's . . . I'd really rather. . . ."

He broke off in a growl, burying his face in his hands. His skin was still burning, and the cold ball in his stomach was making him sick.

"You don't want to be with me because I'm too young," Lalna said.

Rythian made a face and shrugged. "Well . . . yes. I think that's . . . that's about it. Yes."

"I was designed to have the mental and emotional maturity of an adult," they pointed out.

"That's not . . . really the problem, Lalna."

"It isn't?"

"No—well, yes, but—just because you were—were _designed_ a certain way, it doesn't mean . . . look, it's just that I'm not . . . _comfortable._ With—with this. With you. With us."

"Why?"

"Because I . . . I don't want to _hurt_ you," Rythian admitted, and there was more vulnerability in his voice that he had intended to show.

"You won't," said Lalna.

"You don't—you can't _know_ that," he retorted, taking his hands off his face to gesture emphatically. "I'm just—I'm old and cynical and I always end up breaking the things I love, and you're—you're so, _so_ young and I don't want to . . . I just. . . ." He broke off again, shaking his head.

"It's okay to hurt," Lalna said softly.

Rythian looked up at them. Their eyes were a soft magenta color, halfway between pink and purple. They had folded their hands in their lap and were looking down at them, tapping their thumbs together. Rythian said nothing, struck speechless.

"I know it is," said Lalna. "It hurts every time you go away. It hurts every time I scare you by accident. It hurt a lot when Nilesy took you and you were injured. But that's how I know that I love you, so it's okay. I don't mind hurting. I just don't want to lose you."

Tears sprang to Rythian's eyes, plumbed up from some hidden well that ran deep into his core.

"Lalna, I'm not. . . ." he croaked, and shook his head. "I'm not _worth it."_

"That is not an accurate assessment," Lalna told him earnestly.

The tears spilled over onto Rythian's cheeks, and he hurriedly wiped them away, leaving his face in his hands and sniffling.

"Lalna," he mumbled, and could say no more, overwhelmed.

"You don't believe me," they said.

"No, you just—you just don't _understand."_

"Then I will find out," they answered. "It will be science. Unless you don't want to. In which case I will leave you alone and there will be no hard feelings. Do you want to try?"

Rythian took a deep breath, his heart begging him to acquiesce and his brain screaming at him to walk away and never look back. Lalna watched him, their eyes shifting along the scale between purple and pink, their thumbs ticking together with quiet nervousness.

"Yes," Rythian whispered.

Instantaneously, Lalna's eyes turned a bright and rosy pink, and they buried their face in their hands and keeled over backwards, emitting a quiet squealing noise. Their round robot toes wiggled with excitement. Rythian clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on his thumbs, desperately resisting the urge to throw himself on the floor and wrap Lalna in his arms.

"I really, _really_ wish I could hug you," he said, his voice strained, his heart singing. His brain was cursing him for a fool and coming up with all _kinds_ of inventive crimes to charge him with.

"I am working on it!" Lalna said, still lying on the floor with their hands over their face. "I will have a solution very soon! Until then I would suggest a hugging surrogate because hugging is very nice!"

Rythian laughed, shaking his head, and picked up one of the throw pillows on the couch. He hugged it to his chest, squeezing tightly, burying his face in the fabric.

"That—that actually helps," he admitted. He sniffled again.

He heard Lalna get up and lifted his head. He watched them take the other throw pillow from the couch and sit down a few feet away, cradling it against their chest as though it were a baby bird.

"Yes," said Lalna. "It helps."

Rythian's heart was still hammering away with reckless joy, his mind still addled by the rollercoaster of a conversation.

"Would you . . . would you like to watch a movie?" he asked at last.

Lalna's eyes turned bright green.

"A date!" they cried.

Another bemused laugh found its way out of Rythian, and he shrugged, hugging the pillow tighter.

"I—I guess. Yes. A date."

"I would like that very, very much, Rythian," Lalna said. "What movie do you want to watch?"

Rythian considered this. "Something. . . ." he began, and then smiled to himself.

"Something with _magic."_

* * *

 

At some point, Rythian had fallen asleep on the couch. He only knew this because he woke up when Lalna draped a blanket over him, flicking it over the back of the couch so as not to come too near to him.

"Whzzt?" said Rythian, rubbing his eyes.

"You don't need to wake up," Lalna told him. "Nano always runs more frequent sleep cycles when she's injured, too."

"Nn, 'm okay," Rythian said. He did not, however, sit up, or try to take the blanket off. "Wz th'movie good?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "I especially liked the part where you fell asleep. It was very cute."

"Oh, God," Rythian mumbled, pulling the blanket up over his head.

After a moment of silence, Lalna said, "Rythian?"

"Mm?" he said.

"Nano told me you fought with Nilesy last night," they said quietly.

The sleepy contentment melted off of Rythian like wax under a heat lamp. He shifted, his ribs suddenly aching.

"That's . . . pretty much what happened," he said.

"He hurt you," they said, the purple glow of their eyes visible through the thin blanket.

"Um . . . yes," said Rythian. "Yes, he . . . he did."

The purple lights of Lalna's eyes bobbed in a nod. It could have been Rythian's imagination, but they looked a little redder now.

"I will not let him hurt you again," they declared. "I promise."

For a moment, the memory of Nilesy's voice rang in Rythian's ears, a sour overtone on the melodious sense of being cared for.

_It's a machine for murder. It was_ _ made _ _to slaughter us._

Rythian shook himself and forced the echoes silent, choosing instead to focus on the sweet warmth trying to well in his chest.

"Thank you," he said to Lalna. "That . . . that means a lot."

"You're welcome," they said. "But please don't run away again. It will make it very difficult for me to protect you."

"I didn't _exactly_ run away," Rythian pointed out.

"Okay," said Lalna. "Please don't disappear again. I know your life is yours and you don't have to tell me anything, but sometimes you come home hurt, and it is very distressing."

Slowly, Rythian pulled the blanket down to his neck. Lalna wasn't looking at him, and their face was lit in gold by the evening sunlight filtering through the windows.

"I'll try," he promised. "To . . . not disappear again. I'll try."

Lalna's eyes got a little pinker.

"Thank you," they said. "I hope you feel better soon. And I am very happy with the date. I would like to have another one when you are feeling better. If you would like that."

Rythian flushed and bit his lip, resisting the temptation to hide back under the blanket again.

"I . . . would like that a lot, Lalna," he said.

Their eyes went rosy pink, and they hugged themselves. Rythian wanted to kiss them so badly it made his whole chest ache.

"I will let you sleep now," they said. "Good night, Rythian. I love you."

And Rythian, glowing nearly as bright as Lalna's eyes, answered, "I love you, too, Lalna."

 


	17. Chapter 16

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano had been watching the sky for a week, and thus far it hadn't paid off. If, as she suspected, Lomadia was nocturnal, the odds of spotting her in the dark were already fairly low. Add to that the sheer size of the city, and she was left with a recipe for failure.

She'd kept it up anyway, because if she _didn't_ look, she was guaranteed to never find her.

A kind of nightly routine had developed. She would look out of all the windows for uncommon silhouettes on the surrounding buildings as she turned off the lights for the night. She would take her laptop to bed with her and browse the local news, looking for anything that might point to Lomadia. There were, she had found, a surprising number of conspiracy theories floating around Bristol about a giant bird that lurked amidst the skyscrapers and swooped down on unsuspecting citizens, ripping them to shreds. One man—known only as Dave—who worked on the fortieth floor of an office downtown, claimed to have seen a "bird-woman" no less than _six_ times, perched on the rail of a balcony. He claimed she could turn her head all the way around and that she lurked outside, waiting for him to come out so she could tear him to shreds. He had an entire blog about it, _The Bird-Woman of Bristol,_ and his posts were sunk knee-deep in accusations of insanity.

There was, however, at least some truth to the rumors. Certainly, the regular, gruesome animal attacks in back alleys—concentrated around the weekends—were nothing to be sniffed at. It was never addressed in the news, but the location of the attacks and the inevitable maleness of the victims pointed to something a little more personal than a simple animal attack.

Despite herself, Nano found that she rather liked the idea of some silent watcher swooping in and ripping back-alley rapists to literal shreds. It was the kind of brutal justice she could only dream of.

Still, none of this had brought her much closer to actually finding Lomadia. It was clear that she was about, but her range was expansive and the locations of the so-called _animal attacks_ were widely spread and erratic. Short of stalking Dave the Birdwatcher's office building, she didn't see that there was much chance of actually ferreting out Lomadia when she was about her business.

In the end, it was Lomadia who found her.

She was on her way home from a late coffee, her head aching and her focus shot, walking through the dark on a Friday night. She'd been working non-stop for fifteen hours, and she'd felt that if she hadn't gotten out of the house for _something_ she was going to go absolutely mad. She'd finished her coffee a block back and was now hurrying home, hands in her pockets, head down. It had started to rain.

Someone grabbed her arm and hauled her into a shadowed alleyway, pressing a hand over her mouth. Instinctively, she drove her knee up as hard as she could, slamming it into flesh and bone.

 _"Ow!"_ Lomadia cried, backing up a step and hunching over, rubbing at her crotch. "That hurt!"

 _"You?"_ Nano demanded, flabbergasted.

"Yes," said Lomadia, sounding offended. She opened her wings all the way and folded them again. "I saw you walking. I wanted to talk."

"Saw—from _where?"_

Lomadia pointed at the sky.

"Very helpful," Nano said dryly. Her heart was pounding, her skin warm, and she told herself very sternly that it was just residual adrenaline from being snatched off the street. "Any particular _reason_ you had to drag me into an alley?"

"I don't like people seeing me," said Lomadia. "You're all right, though."

"No, I meant—well, okay, _thanks,_ but—did you have to cover my mouth?"

"Screaming hurts my ears," she admitted, turning her head away.

"I wouldn't have—okay, well, fine. Look, what do you _want?"_

"I wanted to talk," Lomadia said again.

"Okay, so . . . talk?"

She shook her head. "Not here. Somewhere safe. You can fly, right? Follow me."

And without waiting for an answer, she leapt into the air, wings beating in eerie silence to lift her into the sky.

"Wait, just—oh, _hell,"_ said Nano, and pushed her power into her feet, and followed Lomadia unsteadily upwards.

Lomadia led her across the city, winding between buildings and power lines, glancing over her shoulder every so often. The first time she did this, Nano nearly dropped out of the sky in shock, since it involved Lomadia turning her head almost all the way around backwards.

It didn't get any less horrifying with repetition, but it did get somewhat less surprising.

Lomadia led Nano to the roof of an old brick building, landing on top of a rusted heating unit. Nano touched down on the gravel-covered roof nearby and looked around, incredulous.

"This is your _nest?"_ Nano asked, putting her fists on her hips. There were scraps of rusted metal strewn about, bits of broken glass and discarded beer cans. The building below was dark, its windows shattered, its doors hanging open; abandoned.

"No," said Lomadia. "It's inside. Follow me."

She dropped down off of the heating unit and ducked behind it. Grumbling, Nano followed her. The two of them squeezed into an old attic space, cluttered with rusting rafters and ancient insulation. There was a wide space, however, that had been cleared out and—for lack of a better word—furnished.

At least three dozen blankets and quilts had been collected together into a bowl shape, padded with pillows and cushions. Glittering bits and bobs had been tied to the rafters. A strand of Christmas lights wreathed the outside of the nest, and Lomadia clicked them on as she entered—they were apparently battery powered, and gave off a dim, warm glow. With the lights on, Nano could see other odds and ends strewn about the nest, things that looked like they had been lifted from rubbish bins and yard sales. There were books, most of them for children; simple analog toys like Rubik's Cubes and ball-in-cup games; coloring books, crayons, and colored pencils, all mismatched. There was a multitude of stuffed animals, many of them extensively repaired.

Lomadia settled down in the nest and folded her wings, then looked up expectantly at Nano.

"You can come in," she said.

Carefully, Nano took her shoes off and stepped into the nest. She settled on the opposite side from Lomadia and picked up a plastic 3D maze. Idly, she rattled the steel ball inside, mainly using it as an excuse to have something to do with her hands.

"What . . . _is_ all this?" she asked.

"It's my nest," said Lomadia. "It's where I bring people so they can be safe."

Nano looked up. "The people you save. From . . . um." She hesitated. "Getting hurt."

"Raped," she corrected. "Sometimes they don't want to come with me, but if they do, I bring them here. It's safe. No one knows it's here. Except Nilesy, but he's forgot where it is. It's my nest."

"I—I see," said Nano. "So . . . why've you brought _me_ here?"

Lomadia shrugged her wings.

"I wanted to talk to you, but you're scared. So I brought you here, where you don't have to be scared."

"Look, lady, the only thing _I'm_ scared of right now is you," Nano snapped. "You can't just snatch people off the street and expect them to be friendly about it."

Lomadia frowned. "Why not?"

"You almost killed me!"

"But I didn't," she pointed out. "Anyway that was _ages_ ago."

"It was a week!"

"Ages. And I didn't mean it. I just needed to know stuff."

"And you couldn't just . . . _ask?"_ Nano inquired through gritted teeth.

She shrugged again. "I was also really angry. I'm not angry anymore, you don't have to be scared of me. I like you. That's why I want to talk to you."

Despite herself, Nano blushed. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away.

"Fine. Well. Start talking, then."

"YogLabs is a bad place and you shouldn't work for them," Lomadia said bluntly.

"What— _excuse_ me?" she sputtered, thrown off-balance.

"They hurt people. And kill people. Powered people, really, but sometimes normal people too. They hate us. They're bad, and you shouldn't work for them. You should work with us instead."

"Sorry, am I—let me just make sure I'm understanding this," Nano said, her head spinning. It had been a _very_ long day. "You're . . . _recruiting_ me?"

"Yes," said Lomadia.

"To your . . . weird, freakish murder club?"

Lomadia's jaw clenched. Nano winced and held up her hands.

"Sorry, not—not freakish. That's not what I meant. Sorry. Just—"

"YogLabs kill people, too," said Lomadia. "All the time."

"Well _I_ don't!" Nano cried, shoving herself to her feet. "And I'm not _going_ to, thanks very much!"

"Murdering isn't part of the job," said Lomadia. "You've got to do that on your own time."

"Oh, have I? Well, brilliant, that's all fine and good then. _It's still murder!"_

Lomadia shrugged her wings, turning her head away. "Just saying. You wouldn't have to kill anyone. Probably. Unless you wanted to."

"The first time I ran into your little _crew,"_ Nano snarled, "your boss tried to fucking _kill_ me. Sorry if that doesn't seem like an ideal work environment!"

Frowning, Lomadia looked up at her. "My boss?" she said.

"Yeah, y'know, cocky little bastard, wears a cat mask?"

Lomadia stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. Nano stood and stared at her, fists clenched, simmering. She was definitely _not_ enjoying how bright and lively Lomadia's laugh was, how it made her chest heave and her wings shiver.

"Nilesy's not my _boss,"_ she said at last, grinning. "He's just the best at talking. We haven't got _bosses._ We're _friends."_

"Oh, s'pose you all just—just bond over murder, then, do you?" Nano demanded.

"No, mostly video games," said Lomadia. "Zylus doesn't like killing."

 _"Fuck's sake,"_ Nano hissed turning away and putting a hand over her face. "This is mad. This is completely fucking mad." She whirled back on Lomadia. _"Why_ are you doing this?"

"Because YogLabs is a bad place," said Lomadia. "And bad people work there. They deserve to die, and we're going to kill them. I don't think you're a bad person, and I don't think you deserve to die, either." She shrugged.

"You keep _saying_ that," Nano said. "What's YogLabs ever _done,_ though? It's not like they're some—some evil . . . _thing,_ doing evil stuff and being—being evil, it's just a company, it's just—people! Just people doing their jobs!"

Lomadia stared at her for a long moment, her face expressionless.

"You don't know," she concluded. "What they've done. You don't know."

Rolling her eyes, Nano said, "Right, okay, here we go with the fucking conspiracy theories—"

"They were going to cut off my wings," said Lomadia.

Nano stopped cold, her insides shriveling. She swallowed, finding the air suddenly thinner.

"What?" she croaked.

Lomadia nodded. "I was four when I got them. The wings. That was back when everybody thought I was a little boy, instead of a girl. There was an owl and she was hurt, and there was all this slimy stuff. I'm not sure what happened, but the owl went inside me. She's still there. Here." 

She pressed a hand to her sternum, her eyes nearly closed.

"But then her wings came out through my back and her feet grew out of my feet and my eyes got all funny. Mum and Dad got scared. They took me to YogLabs. They were going to cut off my wings. And my feet. And do things to my eyes." She shook her head. "I flew away. I flew away and I never came back. But I came here, and they were here anyway. I think they'll be wherever I go, waiting to cut my wings off."

 _"Four?"_ Nano whispered, sick to her stomach.

Lomadia nodded. "I lived by myself for a long time. I met an old woman with lizard skin who taught me how to hunt. There were lots of deer and it was fine, but then they came and knocked down all the trees so I had to leave. I came here and I made my nest, but there wasn't much to eat. Then I found Nilesy and now it's easier, even though he keeps picking up more strays."

"Lomadia, how . . . how old are you?" Nano asked.

"I'm thirty and three months," she answered promptly. "Annnnd . . . five days."

"So—so all this . . . wing business, that was rather a long time ago," said Nano. "Like . . . twenty-six _years."_

"Yes. Why?"

Nano fidgeted. She sat back down and picked the plastic maze up again, fiddling with it so she wouldn't have to look at Lomadia.

"Things . . . things have changed a _lot_ since YogLabs first got started, Lomadia," she said. "They used to be a _lot_ worse. I'll be the first to say it. I think the old board was . . . a lot worse. But they don't _do_ that kind of thing anymore, not since Xephos and the Director got involved. Well. The Director. Things have gotten better."

"No they haven't," said Lomadia. "They got worse. They got lots worse."

"I _work_ for them," Nano snapped. "I think I'd know."

"They killed a lot of people in Scotland," said Lomadia. "Loads and loads of people. That was only ten years ago, and less. And they built Lalna to kill loads and loads more."

Nano's fists clenched. "That is _not true,"_ she growled.

"Yes it is," said Lomadia. "It's there to kill us. That's all it's there for. That's why we have to break it first."

"Shut up," Nano snapped. "Shut the fuck _up_ about Lalna. You don't _know_ them, you don't know anything _about_ them. They wouldn't hurt _anyone,_ not unless someone was trying to hurt them first. They're not some—some _thing,_ not some _machine,_ they're a _person._ They're my _friend."_

Lomadia blinked at her.

"But it's there to kill us," she said.

"Says _who?"_ Nano demanded. "And, for that matter, who says YogLabs has killed _anyone?_ Much less _loads and loads_ of people. That's _ridiculous,_ they're here to _help_ people, not—not slaughter them."

"Nilesy said," Lomadia told her. "He knows."

Nano paused, thinking through her next words carefully. She set the plastic maze down and folded her hands in her lap, then met Lomadia's eyes.

"Is it _possible,"_ she said quietly, "that Nilesy might be . . . lying?"

"No," said Lomadia, as though it was a stupid question.

"Are you _sure?"_ Nano pressed.

"Yes," she snapped. Her wings opened behind her, fanning out until they stretched out of the nest.

"How can you know? I mean, how can you _really_ know?"

Lomadia's eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched on her trousers.

"Because Zylus looked in his head and _saw_ it," she answered darkly.

Nano blinked, unbalanced. "Oh," she said.

"The nightmares still haven't stopped."

She mulled this over for a long time, looking anywhere but at Lomadia. Finally, she mustered her courage and spoke.

"What, _exactly,"_ she asked, "did he see?"

Lomadia shrugged. "I'm not very good at words. He could tell you better. Or Nilesy could."

"I'm asking you."

"Well . . . they put a bunch of people in cages. No, not . . . more like—like a zoo. Like a people-zoo, or a farm, or something. And a lot of people died, and then I think they stopped doing that. They set a lot of stuff on fire. A lot of homes, a lot of people and buildings. A lot of people got killed by just other people because YogLabs told everyone who the Powered people were."

Nano shivered. "Yeah, that . . . I remember," she said. "It was . . . ugly."

There had been blood on the pavements on the way to work. Once she'd had to step over an arm. They'd burned the bodies in dumpsters with the rest of the garbage. That first summer, there had never been a day without smoke in the sky.

"And now they've made Lalna, and it's worse," said Lomadia.

"That _isn't—"_ Nano began, and cut herself off, forcing herself to calm down. "Look. Maybe—maybe YogLabs _has_ done some . . . horrible things. Honestly I wouldn't put it past them. Us. But Lalna isn't _part_ of that."

"You don't believe me," said Lomadia. "About them killing people. But it's true. I bet you could find out on the internet."

"I'm . . . not sure _what_ to believe," Nano said. "I just can't see Xephos—"

And here she broke off again, because in all honesty, she _could_ see Xephos blithely ordering a thousand deaths like he would a box of new syringes. What she _couldn't_ see was the Director, or the rest of the YogLabs Administrative Board, letting him get away with it.

Well. _Some_ of the Administrative Board. At _least_ the Director.

"I just feel like I would have heard about it," she finished lamely.

"It was really secret," said Lomadia. "Except the part where people started killing each other. That wasn't secret. That's why they started getting Powered people to work for them. So we'd stop killing the normal people who were trying to kill us."

Nano recoiled. "That's _not_ what the Division's for," she said.

"Then what _is_ it for?"

"It's—well, it's so that normal—so that non-Powered people don't feel like they _have_ to kill . . . us," Nano admitted, uncomfortable. "Look, we're the only people who're strong enough to handle each other. It's just making it a fair fight."

"There wasn't a fight at all," said Lomadia. "Until YogLabs started one."

Nano fidgeted. "I'm not sure that's _entirely_ true."

"I am," said Lomadia.

She was about to reply when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Um," she said, "hang on. I've got a—thing, just . . . just a second."

The text was from Rythian, inimitably horrible.

 

_Where are you??? Lalna is making worry cookies because you arent' home And your radio thingy is off so I am having to text you!!_

 

Nano rubbed her temple and typed a quick reply.

 

_Got held up, sry. Be there soon. Make sure Lal doesn't burn the kitchen down pls thnx._

 

She put the phone away and looked back up at Lomadia, shrugging sheepishly.

"Rythian," she said. "Ever since your not-boss beat the shit out of him, he's been—"

 _"What,"_ Lomadia interrupted, her wings snapping out to their full span, her eyes narrowed to gleaming slits. Nano leaned back against the wall of the nest, shying away from her.

"Um?" she said. "Yeah, there was . . . sort of a thing? I don't really know the details, other than that Rythian's got a bunch of broken ribs now—"

"He _said_ he was going to leave him alone!" Lomadia cried, leaping to her feet.

"Oh dear," said Nano. "Maybe . . . not so trustworthy after all?"

"Shut up," Lomadia snapped. "I'm leaving now. I have to go fucking _kill_ my stupid _idiot boyfriend."_

And she leapt out of the nest, and ducked out onto the roof, and was gone.

Nano sat there, speechless and suddenly drained. There was a hollow ache in her chest, made all the worse by how abrupt, how _stupid_ it was.

The word _boyfriend_ had gone right through her, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

* * *

 

By the time she got home, the house was filled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. Rythian was sitting at the dining table, idly poking at half a plate of cookies. Lalna was sitting on the other side of the table, dissecting one of the cookies with a scalpel and a pair of forceps. They shot to their feet when Nano came in, their eyes snapping to the pale purple of worry.

"Your excursion took thirty minutes longer than is standard," they said, their voice quick and concerned.

Nano shut the door behind her and shook her head. She came over to the table and sat down carefully, feeling Rythian's eyes on her the whole way. She picked up a cookie and put the whole thing in her mouth.

"Um," said Rythian. She held up a finger at him, finished chewing, and swallowed.

"Got held up," she said. She took another cookie, although she restrained herself and ate it in two bites instead of one. Flying always made her gnawingly hungry, and chocolate helped dull the ache of disappointment.

"Are you all right?" Lalna asked, sitting back down.

"Fine," said Nano. "These are really good, Lalna. You're getting a lot better."

Their eyes shaded towards green, and some of the white bled out of them.

"Thank you," they said.

"Did something . . . happen?" Rythian asked. He was peering at her with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing.

"Ran into somebody," Nano answered. She had another cookie. "It'f fine. Noffing to worry 'bout."

"Riiiiight," said Rythian, looking her up and down.

"What?" she demanded. "Anyways, I thought the two of you would be _glad_ of a little alone-time."

Predictably, Rythian blushed and ducked his head, looking away.

"Well—well—" he stammered.

"He helped with the cookies," Lalna said. Their eyes were full green now. "He is extremely inept at dough. It's very cute."

"Shut up," Rythian mumbled, rubbing his arm. "You're bad at eggs."

"I don't _like_ eggs," Lalna said. "They are unpredictable and irregular. I am actually very good at eggs. I simply wanted you to be included in the process. So I gave you the worst job, because you are unskilled labor."

"Capitalist pig," Rythian accused.

"Oink," said Lalna. Rythian snorted and put his face in his hands.

 _"God,_ you two are cute," Nano said, rolling her eyes. She had another cookie, because there were clearly plenty.

"Rythian is cuter," Lalna said. "Empirically. I have run extensive calculations."

Rythian was about to reply, but something in Lalna's chest beeped loudly, and they looked down at themselves.

"Oh," they said, their eyes shading to blue. "I am due for a sleep-cycle."

Rythian took his hands off his face. "Already?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lalna. They got up. "But in another six days I will not have to run regular sleep-cycles anymore and then I will stay up very late with you."

"You'd better not," Nano warned. "If he's going to be working with the Division, he'll have to learn how to wake up early."

"You don't have a night shift?" Rythian asked, pouting.

"Technically—" Lalna began.

"Don't _encourage_ him," Nano said, wagging a finger at Lalna. "Go sleep. Rythian and me'll finish up your cookies."

Lalna paused, then nodded.

"I am glad you are okay," they said tenderly. "Good night, Nano, I love you."

"Good night, Lal," she replied. "Love you too."

They turned to Rythian. "Good night, Rythian. I love you."

Rythian blushed again and mumbled, "I love you, too."

With that, Lalna excused themselves from the table and headed off to their room. Nano sat with Rythian in silence for a good five minutes, snacking on cookies.

"Lomadia," she said at last. Rythian looked over at her sharply, and she sighed. "That's who I ran into. Lomadia."

"Who's Lomadia?" Rythian asked.

"Giant owl-woman?" Nano suggested. "Wings and everything?"

Rythian swallowed. "With . . . the one who—"

"Yeah, she's one of Nilesy's," Nano said. She fidgeted, the hollow ache making a resurgence in her chest. "Or at least, they're . . . working together."

"You're all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean—yeah. I ran into her about a week ago, and she—well, it didn't go fantastically."

"And yet," Rythian said dryly, "you yell at _me_ when _I_ come home beat up."

"I didn't _know_ I was going to run into her," Nano snapped. "It's _different._ And she didn't actually hurt me. Much. The first time. She didn't hurt me at all this time."

Rythian turned towards her and folded his arms.

"So what _did_ she do?"

Nano shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She had another cookie.

"Just . . . talked," she said. "And I wondered—I thought—Rythian, what did Nilesy _say_ to you?"

Rythian hesitated just a moment too long before answering. "What makes you think he said anything?" he asked.

She fixed him with a dubious look. "It's _Nilesy,"_ she said. "I don't think he'd stop talking if you broke his jaw."

Rythian's hands tightened, ever so slightly, on his arms.

"Well—fine, fair enough," he said, and shrugged, looking away. "So what? It was just—stuff. Just bullshit. That's all he ever says, right?"

"Lomadia told me about—" Nano began, then changed tack. "She said YogLabs had done some terrible things. And since you've just joined the Division, and since Nilesy _clearly_ hates us, I wondered . . . I wondered if maybe he had something to say to you about it, and that's why he pretended to kidnap your Dish Boy."

Rythian was quiet for a long time, his jaw tight, his posture stiff.

"He . . . might have mentioned something," he allowed.

"Being?" she pressed.

He shrugged, turning away from her. "Stuff about—I don't know, camps and bombs and . . . stuff like that. Third Reich bullshit. It wasn't _true,_ he was just—just fucking with me."

Nano chose her next words carefully, as though building a house of cards from them.

"I'm not entirely sure he was, Rythian," she said.

His gaze snapped to her, steady and sharp.

"Why?" he demanded. "Because Lomadia told you the same thing?"

"Well—yes."

"Lomadia, who works with him."

"Y-yes, but. . . ." She fidgeted, uncomfortable. That hole in her chest was getting bigger, she could swear it. Her broken rib was aching.

"They're _fucking_ with us," Rythian spat, jabbing a finger at her. Sparks glittered in his hair, scurrying along the fine strands. "None of it's true. _Especially_ not about Lal—"

He broke off suddenly, swallowed, folded his arms again. He took a deep breath and let it out again.

"Rythian," Nano said, apprehensive. "What did he tell you about Lalna?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It's all lies."

"Rythian—"

 _"All. Lies,"_ he snapped, rounding on her. His voice was shaking. "And I'm not going to dignify them by repeating them."

Nano bristled, her hands tightening on the edge of the table. "I could just _tell_ you if they're true or not," she pointed out sharply.

"They're _not,"_ he insisted.

"Then why don't you _tell_ me—"

Rythian shot to his feet and whirled towards the door, starting off at a determined stalk. Nano rose as well, resisting the urge to grab him by the arm and slap him.

"Where the hell are _you_ going?" she demanded.

 _"Out,"_ he growled, and wrenched the door open, and stormed off into the night.

Nano kicked the table and cursed, seething. She had no idea why the conversation had frustrated her so much, but Rythian's cagy adamance had gotten far enough under her skin that it was making her itch.

"Stupid—stupid _idiot,"_ she muttered to herself. She took a deep breath and put her hands over her face, dragging them down, trying to wipe the frustrated expression off. Between the fifteen-hour workday, the concerning and ultimately crushing conversation with Lomadia, and now _this,_ her brain was scarcely fit to keep her breathing, much less process any of it.

Cursing under her breath, she stomped off to take a shower and go to bed. Everything else would just have to wait until morning.

 


	18. Chapter 17

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nilesy woke up with Lomadia looming over him, her wings flared wide and her eyes blazing with fury.

 _"You said you'd leave him alone,"_ she hissed.

A smile crawled out onto his face, dragging a nervous laugh along behind it.

"Ahah," he said. "Er . . . will it help if I say I'm very sorry?"

"Why?" she snapped. "He could've killed you. Why did you go after him again?"

"It's . . . not really that simple, dear," Nilesy said.

Lomadia's eyes narrowed. "You said you'd leave him alone. You _promised._ You—you lied to me. You _lied_ to _me,_ just like she said."

"Lom, no, that is _not_ what happened," he told her urgently. He started to sit up, reaching out for her, and she pushed him back down, one hand heavy on his chest.

"Don't," she warned. "Don't touch me. Explain why you lied to me."

He took a deep breath and let it out again, guilt swirling in his guts.

"At the time I said it," he began, "I meant it. You and Zylus were right, he's too dangerous to bother with, and we'd be better off trying to stay out of his way. But, when I said I'd leave him alone, I did specify that it was only in the sense of not trying to kill him again."

"She said you beat him up," Lomadia retorted. "She said there was a fight."

Nilesy winced. "This'd be Nano, then?"

"Don't you dare try to tell me she's lying."

"She's not," he sighed. "It was . . . stupid. I wanted to talk with him. YogLabs got to him, somehow or other—probably through the medical bills—and I couldn't just . . . _let_ him. Not without telling him the truth about them."

"That doesn't need beating up."

"Yes, dear, I know. He wasn't exactly amenable to talking. Mostly my fault, I'll be honest, but I didn't expect it to come to blows. Turns out he's not a very good listener, ahahah."

"Why did you go alone?" she demanded. "I would've gone with you. Anyone would've gone with you. Stupid. He could've killed you."

"Yes, well, that was rather the point," he said flippantly. "Could have, didn't, ahahah, though it was a bit of a close-run thing. I _mayyyy_ have slightly overestimated his regard for me. But it all worked out in the end."

Or rather, he'd managed to come out of it alive, which wasn't quite the same thing. He'd been waking up with the skin of his face itching for _days_ now, his heart in his throat and his veins filled with tar. He hadn't wanted to explain why he was waking in a cold sweat, and so he'd been sleeping by himself. Neither Lomadia nor Panda had commented on it, but he was sure they'd noticed.

Lomadia stared at him for a good long while, and his face started prickling again. Idly, he reached out for the mask on his bedside table, hardly even noticing that his arm was moving until she caught him by the wrist.

"No," she said.

"Lom—" he began, winding up to a good wheedle.

 _"No,"_ she repeated.

He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, focusing on the feeling of her hands on him, the smell of her—brick dust and asphalt and that peculiar sharp scent that he could only describe as _sky._

It was only Lomadia, and she didn't _know._

"I . . . made a mistake," he admitted, although forcing his voice out was difficult. "And I'm sorry."

"Promise you won't do it again," she insisted.

"Can't," he said, a smile tugging at his mouth. "'Fraid I'm going to keep on making mistakes."

"Promise you won't make _this_ one again."

He fidgeted. His fingers opened and closed, still futilely reaching for the mask.

"I can't," he said.

"Why _not?"_

"He seemed—he didn't want to listen, Lom, but he _heard,_ and there's still a chance he might come round, and I can't just _leave_ him to YogLabs, now can I? They'll rip him to shreds, I couldn't possibly abandon him."

She blinked at him twice, leaning back slightly.

"You _like_ him," she accused.

Blood rushed to Nilesy's face, and he chewed on his lip, casting his eyes to the far wall of the room.

"A bit," he admitted.

"You tried to _kill_ him," she said.

"Drown," he objected, fidgeting.

"He hates you."

"That's not— _entirely_ true, dear," he said.

"It's not?" Lomadia asked, and there was a little chirp of hope in her voice. "How can you tell?"

Nilesy shrugged. "Oh, just a hunch," he said.

Sometimes his lips still tingled with the feeling of cool plastic, and sometimes his blood still warmed when he thought—idly, of course—about the incredible blushing awkwardness that had come afterwards. Always idly, because it wasn't really _him_ Rythian liked. It was the _other_ one, and it was a crying shame that Rythian had such incredibly bad taste.

Again, Lomadia was quiet for a long moment.

 _"Are_ you very sorry?" she asked.

He met her eyes and said, without hesitation, "Yes."

She nodded. "Okay. I forgive you."

Something that had quietly knotted itself in his stomach came untangled, and breathing got a little easier.

"Thank you," he said. She dipped her head and kissed him, then climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to him. He curled against her, burying his face in her chest. Finally, his skin stopped prickling.

"I talked to Nano," said Lomadia. "That's how I found out."

"Ah," said Nilesy, rather more coldly than he'd intended.

"I told her about YogLabs and Lalna. She didn't _want_ to believe me, but I think she did."

"Well," he said. "Good. Any chance she'll scrap it for us?"

"No," said Lomadia. "But we're not going to kill her."

Nilesy paused. "Are we not?"

"No," said Lomadia. "She doesn't think Lalna is bad, but she doesn't think YogLabs is good either. And I like her. She's really cute. She looks at me the same way you do."

He raised his head far enough to look at her, tipping it to one side in puzzlement.

"And what way would that be?" he asked.

Lomadia shrugged. "Like I'm beautiful," she said.

"You _are_ beautiful, dear," Nilesy pointed out.

Her mouth pulled into a little smile and she kissed his forehead. Warmth rose under his skin, and he closed his eyes, the better to enjoy it. She ran a hand through his hair and he let his head drop again.

"You wouldn't understand," she said. "It's okay. You don't have to. But we're not going to kill her. And if you're going to keep bothering Rythian, I'm going to keep bothering her."

He mulled this over for a moment, then nodded.

"All right," he said. "Just . . . be careful. If you can."

He slid an arm around her and caressed the base of her wing, where the feathers were soft and short and always a little poofy. She folded the wing over the two of them and kissed the top of his head.

"Yes," she said. "But you have to be careful too. Extra careful."

"Yes, dear," he said. He did not mention the fact that it was possible Rythian would show up at his work tomorrow and kill him—or worse yet, hand him over to YogLabs. Lomadia had enough to worry about already.

For a time, they lay in companionable silence, Lomadia's breath ruffling his hair and his hand caressing her wing.

"Nilesy?" she said.

"Yes, dear?"

"Is it okay if I kiss her?"

He grinned and bit his lip, delighted.

"Oh, are we already at wanting to kiss her?" he inquired.

"She's _really_ cute," said Lomadia.

"S'pose I could get on board with that," he said. "I'd have to run quality control, though. Can't have you giving out substandard kisses."

_"Sub-stan-dard?"_

"Below average. Not very good. What I'm saying here is, I've got to check to make sure your kisses are good enough for sharing. Otherwise it'll make us look bad."

She snorted. "That's not true."

"Yeah? Says you."

Pushing a hand back through his hair, she moved his head away from her chest, then leaned in to kiss him. He melted on the spot, every concern forgotten.

"Good enough?" she asked him.

"Mmm, not sure," he said, smiling to himself. "Might have to have another go."

Obligingly, she kissed him again, stroking his jaw with her thumb. He sighed and rested his hand between her wings.

"S'pose that'll do," he allowed, when she drew away. "I'll have to keep checking, though."

She pressed her lips to his forehead and then rested her head on his pillow, going back to running her fingers through his hair.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"My pleasure, dear," he replied.

A few more long, drowsy minutes passed in easy silence.

"Lom?" he asked, nerves bubbling in his stomach.

"Yes?"

"D'you mind if I snog Rythian? No reason, just have a feeling it might come up."

She laughed and squeezed him, and he buried his burning face in her shoulder.

"You're _so cute,"_ she told him.

"Thanks," he said, muffled.

"But."

His stomach dropped, and something chilly wrapped around his heart.

"But?" he asked.

"I'll have to make sure your snogging isn't _substandard."_

Nilesy burst out laughing, and hugged her close, and tried not to come apart from sheer, radiant _joy._

* * *

 

He dreamed about the white room.

Someone was drawing a cold line across his face, tracing his hairline. He managed to crack his eyes open, though his vision was blurred.

Xephos towered over him, smiling. He was touching Nilesy's face, holding his jaw in one hand, drawing that cold line with the other. When he pulled his hand back, there was a scalpel in it, dripping with blood.

"There we are," he murmured. "Let's get you out from under there, shall we?"

He dug a fingernail into Nilesy's cheek, pinched the skin between his fingers and pulled. The top half of Nilesy's face peeled off like a sticker, and though it didn't hurt, it still left him raw and shaking, the air cold against the tingling flesh underneath, blood trickling into his ears.

Xephos smiled at him. "There's my Liam," he said warmly. He patted Nilesy's cheek, smearing blood on his fingertips. "How are you feeling?"

Fear was clawing up through Nilesy's insides, slow and tangled, trying to drag his guts out through his throat. He couldn't move. There were bright lights and the smell of disinfectant and walls so white they made his head ache.

"No," he slurred, his lips numb. He tried to lift an arm, tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't listen.

Xephos sighed. "I do wish you would use your words, Liam. This will go ever so much faster if you just _cooperate."_

 _"No,"_ he repeated, his voice cracking. Blood was running into his eyes, blurring his vision further.

"Liam," Xephos warned, stern and frowning. "Have you been spitting out your medication again?"

A bitter taste rose to Nilesy's tongue, a slippery feeling coated his mouth. The air in the room had gotten thin and he wasn't breathing right. He opened his hand, reaching out for any water that might be nearby. Somewhere in the room, glass rattled against metal, and his heart leapt in sudden, desperate hope.

"Ah," said Xephos. "I shall take that as a _yes."_

He almost had it, _almost_ had it, the bottle was vibrating on its shelf, trying to leap to his aid, and if his head was splitting and his heart was stuttering, it only meant that it was _working. . . ._

Xephos clicked his teeth, and brought the scalpel down to his chest. He drew a neat circle just over Nilesy's heart and opened him up like a mason jar.

"Won't be needing this anymore," he remarked, and reached into Nilesy's chest. There was an awful _ripping_ sensation, and Nilesy cried out in pain and terror.

Xephos lifted his heart from his chest like it was a newborn child. It continued to beat in his hand, arrhythmic and frantic, pouring scummy water over his fingers and wrist. The smell of brine filled the air, and Nilesy choked on it.

"Useless little thing," Xephos remarked, regarding the heart coolly. He tossed it over his shoulder, and it splattered against the wall, turning to more brine upon the instant, like it had only been a particularly gruesome water-balloon. Xephos wiped his hand on his lab coat and picked up a bottle of round, white pills from a nearby table.

"These are much better," he said. "You won't be so frightened, then. Be a good boy, now, and take your medicine."

Nilesy tried to get free again, yanking at the restraints around his wrists. He knew they weren't very strong—but neither was he.

Xephos lowered the bottle into his chest and placed the round chunk of flesh back over the top of it. A slow chill rolled out from the bottle, filling his veins, weakening him even further. The glass jar on the shelf stopped rattling.

"Now," said Xephos, a hand on Nilesy's chest. "How are you feeling, Liam?"

"Fine," he croaked, because that was what you had to say, even if your eyes were stinging from the blood and your guts were in tangles, even if you were too scared to breathe.

"Good, good," Xephos crooned. He set down his scalpel and turned away. When he turned back, he was holding a long, _long_ needle in his hands, six inches or more, attached to a huge and _empty_ syringe.

 _"No,"_ Nilesy gasped, fighting to get himself upright. He wriggled on the table—bed—gurney—whatever it was, but his muscles were jelly and his veins were full of cold water and the bottle in his chest was leaking pale dust all over his insides. Blood was still rolling down his cheeks, pooling behind his head and clotting in his hair, and his face was starting to sting and itch in the brutally cold air.

"Shhh, it's all right, it's all _right,_ Liam," Xephos said. He picked up an alcohol wipe and swabbed Nilesy's skinned temple, leaving a needling pain in his wake.

"Please," Nilesy whimpered, unable to so much as turn his head away. "Please, no—please, _no—"_

Xephos leaned down and kissed his forehead. When he straightened back up, his lips were dripping with blood.

"It's all right, Liam," he murmured again, touching the tip of the needle to Nilesy's temple. "It won't hurt for very long. Soon it won't hurt at all. Ever again. I promise. We're going to fix you. You'll be all right, then."

 _"Please, no,"_ he begged, weeping, all his insides tangled up together and rattling the bottle of pills in his chest. "I don't want—please _—please—"_

"Shhh, shhh. Easy. It'll all be over soon. Ready? Here we go. . . ."

The needle slid in easy as breathing, through his flesh and his skull and into his brain, _deep_ into his brain, and Xephos pulled back on the plunger of the syringe and he could feel it _sucking—_

He woke up screaming, and couldn't stop until Lomadia put the mask on him.

* * *

 

When he got up in the morning, Zylus had made him breakfast—a ham and cheese omelette, toast with jam, a hot cup of tea—and was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping his own cup of tea and doing a crossword.

"Panda'sh already left," Zylus mentioned, as Nilesy climbed unsteadily into one of the tall chairs and started poking at the food. "He shaysh _love you lotsh,_ and he'll be home around five. Lom shtill shleeping?"

"Mm," said Nilesy. His stomach wasn't feeling quite right, so he started with the tea in the hopes that it would help settle him.

Zylus nodded, and the two of them sat in silence for a while. Nilesy managed to get a piece of toast down, and after that it got a little easier to actually eat.

"Hope I didn't wake you," Nilesy said eventually.

Zylus shrugged. "Not your fault. In cashe you're wondering, Panda shlept through it."

"Well. That's something, then."

Again, there was a short silence.

"Want to talk about it?" Zylus offered.

Nilesy considered this, excavating bits of ham from the omelette with his fork.

"How much did you get?" he asked.

"Blesshedly little. Would've thought it wash one of mine, if it hadn't been for the shcreaming."

He considered a little longer, choosing his words carefully.

"They're not yours, though," he said, "are they."

"Mine enough," said Zylus. "They're coming from my head, sho I'm going to take credit."

"D'you ever—" he began, and stopped. He poked at the omelette some more, because it was better than looking at anything else.

Zylus waited, saying nothing, not even tapping his pencil on the crossword.

"D'you ever get the one with the white room?" Nilesy asked at last.

After hissing in a breath through his teeth, Zylus admitted, "Can't shay it shoundsh familiar."

"Probably for the best," said Nilesy. "Are you working today?"

Zylus took just a shade too long to answer, but when he did, there was no hint of disapproval in his voice.

"Not officially," he said. "Thought I'd go down to Clifton and shee what I could shkim while everyone'sh at work. You?"

"Dinner shift," Nilesy said, absolutely failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Shorry," said Zylus, wincing. "At leasht you can go back to shleep."

"Right," he intoned. "Because _that's_ ever so much better than being awake."

Zylus paused, then said, "You could alwaysh try beating Mario again."

Nilesy reached up to rub his temple and was briefly startled when his fingers touched cold plastic. He went through with the gesture anyway, for the look of the thing.

"What is it," he said, "with you and that _fucking_ game?"

"I feel an immenshe amount of sholidarity with a man whoshe goal keepsh getting moved into more difficult territory," he said, completely deadpan.

Blinking, Nilesy looked over at him. "Seriously?" he asked.

"No," said Zylus, not looking up from his crossword. "It'sh becaushe I'm a hipshter pieshe of shit."

"Oh, _right,_ of course. How could I forget."

"Pay attention, why don't you."

"Terribly sorry."

"Unforgivable. Into the lava pitsh with you."

"What lava pits would these be, then?"

Zylus grinned. "You probably haven't heard of them. They're pretty underground."

"You hipster piece of shit," Nilesy accused fondly.

"But I'm _your_ hipshter pieshe of shit," said Zylus. "Eat your omelette."

"If you insist," said Nilesy.

 


	19. Chapter 18

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

As was standard for Division meetings, the Director was late.

The other seven sat around the conference table, sipping coffee and munching donuts. Sips and Sjin were flirting relentlessly at each other, Martyn was falling asleep with his chin propped on his hand, and Turps and Pyrion had _already_ found something to argue about.

Xephos was sitting quietly, hands folded on the table, watching all of them. He caught Nano staring at him and a little smile curled the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure he'll be along presently," he said. "He is rather busy these days."

"Sure," said Nano. It was eight-thirty in the morning, and she hadn't slept well, and it was making her snappish.

"Something the matter?" Xephos inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"The fact I could've slept in half an hour and not been late," Nano answered, which was true, if not complete.

"Ah, yes, the eternal dilemma," he agreed, nodding sagely. "Sleep or punctuality. Surely it has haunted humankind throughout its existence."

"Whatever," Nano muttered, and took a sip of her coffee.

Martyn's head tipped forward until it impacted the plastic lid of his coffee cup. He snorted and jerked upright, blinking rapidly.

"Long night?" Nano asked him, smirking.

"Look, _you_ try sleeping when you've got an entire police force to run," he whined, rubbing his forehead. "It's not as though I do it on purpose."

"Oh, is _that_ all? Here I was thinking you'd skipped out on photosynthesis this morning."

He let out a long-suffering sigh. "Hasn't helped. You could stick me in a little pot by the window. I'd be down with that."

She was about to respond when the door flew open and the Director came marching in, stuffing the last morsel of a jelly donut into his mouth.

He was a short, stocky man with a huge ginger beard and fingers like vienna sausages. He had beady dark eyes and a red nose and hair growing out of his ears. There were so many creases at the corners of his eyes that they were spreading to his temples. He wore gold on every finger and around his neck, and his watch was either a Rolex or a very good imitation of one. Powdered sugar was clinging to his beard, and he brushed it off as he hopped up into his chair.

"Right!" he declared in his brash, uncultured voice. "Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come. What're we doing, then?"

Very slowly, Xephos put a hand to his face and squeezed his temples.

"Discussing our response to the recent terrorist attacks on the city center, sir," he said.

"Good grief, when did that happen?" the Director demanded.

Xephos leaned over and whispered something in the Director's ear. The Director frowned into his beard, nodding seriously.

"Ah, right, _that,"_ he said. "Yeah, of course, the—the flooding business, yep, knew all about that. Definitely terrorism, gotcha. What're we doing about it, then?"

"I've had the beat cops out canvassing," Martyn volunteered. "Nothing yet, but if we keep on looking, I'm sure we'll find them. And they haven't tried anything else, so _something's_ working."

"Is that a good sign, though?" Sjin inquired. "Them not doing anything. Maybe they're just _planning,_ the sneaky little sneaks."

"Oh, yeah," Sips agreed, nodding. Every movement of jaw and head let out a dry grinding sound—he was made entirely of gray limestone, and no one was quite sure how he managed to move at all. "Bet they're just . . . really gettin' ready to cut loose on us, huh."

"Cut _what_ loose, though?" Turps asked, sitting back in his chair. "Not as though they've got anything that can stand up to the whole Division, is it. I mean, hah, is it, really? It's—it's not, right? Right? They haven't got anything that could stand up to all of us, after all, there's only two of them."

"At least three," Xephos put in. "Someone had to tamper with the city's water while the other two were making spectacles of themselves. Likely it was the same one who joined in the ambush upon Nano and Lalna. And there is almost certainly a fourth, who aided in the kidnapping."

"Hang on, hold on a sec," Sips said, his flinty black eyes narrowing. "You're tellin' me, all that water was just lyin' around? That _wasn't_ some uh—some great big scary Powered guy being all uhh . . . y'know, biblical on us?"

"Yes, that is precisely what I'm telling you," Xephos answered. "Good God, no, if some freak were running about with—"

 _"Oy,"_ the Director growled. The room had gone somewhat chilly, and Nano's hands had clenched in her lap.

Xephos held up his hands and bowed his head.

"Apologies. It still slips out sometimes, ahah. If some _Powered individual_ was running about with that much firepower—as it were, ahahah, no slight intended, Sjin—I'd be a great deal more concerned for our fair city's well-being. As it stands, although the situation is rather _pressing,_ it isn't what one would call _urgent."_

"Right," the Director said, dubious, side-eyeing Xephos. "So . . . why the fuck're we havin' a meetin' about it then?"

Martyn snorted and put a hand over his mouth. Sjin raised his eyebrows and nudged Sips in the arm. Xephos's smile went tight and he took a slow, deep breath.

"Clearly, so that it doesn't _become_ urgent," Pyrion said, watching his pen as he twirled it in his hand. Slowly, touch by touch, it was turning gold.

"Yes," said Xephos, sounding somewhat strained. "Precisely. Thank you, Pyrion."

"My pleasure," said Pyrion mildly.

"Okay," said the Director, "so what're we doin' about it, then? Anybody got any brilliant ideas?"

"Well," Nano began, "there's been some developments on the Rythian situation."

"The who what now?" said the Director. Xephos leaned over and whispered in his ear again. "Oh, right! Yeah, him, gotcha, Mr. Volunteer. G'head."

Nano frowned at Xephos, who was sitting placidly, his face betraying nothing. She wondered, briefly, in what universe someone like Rythian could be considered _Mr. Volunteer._ Then again, he'd seemed happy to join up when given the opportunity, so maybe he had come around after all.

"Yeah," she said, pulling her mind back on track. "Well, turns out, Nilesy's got some sort of interest in him—"

The Director had opened his mouth, brow furrowed, but Xephos leaned over and spoke in his ear before he could say anything. He shut his mouth and nodded. Nano kept going, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"And . . . er, right. Well, they've sort of . . . had a bit of a fight, I think. And possibly words. Definitely words. I'm not sure what _sort_ of words, but—"

"Mind gettin' to the point, sweetheart?" Sips asked, sounding bored. Sjin laughed, and Turps grinned broadly.

Nano bristled and bit back the sharp words that leapt to her tongue.

"The _point,"_ she said, seething, "is that we might have a direct line to that slimy little bastard."

"Yeah? How so?" Turps asked, examining his fingernails. "Planning on ringing him up and having a chat? Sounds fantastic, let's have him to tea."

"No, no no, Turps, you're thinking too small!" Sjin chimed in, grinning. "We've got to let the rookie take on the Big Bad Wolf all by himself."

"That _isn't_ what I—" Nano began.

"Yeah, 'cause _that'll_ look awesome on the news," Sips drawled. "Get sparks guy to cook the catfish. Hey, you think we should promote him while we're at it?"

"Guys, stop it," Martyn said, shifting in his seat. "Look, it's not a terrible plan, it's better than anything we've got so far—"

"Stickin' up for your little crush, are you?" Turps asked, grinning. "Good grief, Woodsy, you just keep getting more professional!"

"Shut up!" Martyn snapped, blushing bright green. "I haven't got a—a crush, that's not what this is about!"

Quietly, Pyrion cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him, expectant.

"As I see it," he mused, still twirling his pen, "there's two problems with Dr. Sounds's plan."

 _"Plan?_ What _plan,_ I never said anything about—" Nano objected, but Turps shushed her.

"As I was saying," Pyrion went on calmly. "The first is that Rythian can't be trusted. The second is that we have no reason to think that Nilesy could be leveraged with him. At all."

"We could _find out,"_ Nano said, gritting her teeth. "There's _something_ going on there, he's tried to kill him _twice_ now."

"I may have an explanation for that," Xephos said.

"Oh, fuckin' grand," said the Director, sitting back in his chair and clasping his hands on his round belly. "Finally shit's going to make sense."

Xephos inclined his head to him with an indulgent smile, then turned his attention to the room at large.

"It's very clear to me, as someone with a vested interest in the matter, that Nilesy's primary goal is to destroy Lalna."

 _"Oh, here we fuckin' go,"_ the Director grumbled, rolling his eyes. "So much for makin' sense."

 _"If_ I may continue?" Xephos asked him, somewhat sharply.

"Yeah, yeah, fine, go on about your goddamn robot," said the Director, waving a stubby hand.

"Thank you," said Xephos. "Ahem. Now. It is likewise clear to me that, despite his obvious . . . _eccentricities,_ Nilesy is not a stupid man. Mr. Woods runs a tight ship—" he nodded to Martyn— "and I am certain that his ground troops have been working hard to ferret out our little rats. The fact that they have been unable to do so speaks to the intelligence of our opponent. That being said, it is painfully obvious to anyone who has seen the two of them in the same place that Lalna and Rythian are rather firmly attached to one another. I'm certain Nilesy has not missed the fact."

"What, like they're bangin' or something?" Sips asked.

"Hardly any point making a robot you can't roger," Sjin purred, his eyes sparkling.

"That's disgusting," Turps said, and stuck his tongue out through his wrinkled-nose grin. "Has it got a little robot willy?"

"Or a real big one," Sips said. "That's the kinda thing _I'd_ give a sex bot, if I was gonna—"

"One more word," Xephos said very quietly, "and none of you three will ever see the light of day again."

Sips and Sjin looked at each other. Turps pulled a nervous, wincing face and pushed himself back from the table. Martyn leaned away from Xephos slightly, looking him up and down.

When no further comments were made, Xephos nodded and said, "Thank you." He pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Here, you can't—you can't threaten my employees like that," the Director said, though his voice was somewhat thready.

"I believe I just have," Xephos said.

"Yeah but—look, it weren't nothin' but a bit of harmless fun, it's no call to go all mad scientist on 'em."

"Harmless?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Need I remind you, Honeydew, that Lalna is, by most common metrics, a child. I am certain we needn't start throwing around words like _pedophilia_ and _child pornography,_ but, ahahah, if we must, then I shall be throwing them with considerable _force."_

"Hang on, that's not what you said to—" Nano began, affronted. Xephos pinned her with a glare so sharp it struck right through her.

"Said to whom, Dr. Sounds?" he asked pleasantly. His hands were clenched white-knuckled on the edge of the table. "As I recall, I have been _adamant_ in my insistence that Lalna not become involved in any sort of intimacy, as he is a child. Do you recall differently, Dr. Sounds?"

"I—well, I—" It was difficult to get words out. Her skin was crawling, her hindbrain screaming at the top of its lungs that she was about to be _lunch._ "I just—I um . . . y-you explained it a bit . . . differently to—to Lalna."

"Did I?" he said mildly. "Perhaps he simply explained it to you poorly. He is not entirely well-equipped to understand this sort of thing, and I certainly didn't want to _scar_ him by providing, ahahah, too much detail. Can you fault me for that, Dr. Sounds?"

"N-no," she mumbled. She was sweating, and sitting still was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Xephos smiled a reptilian little smile at her and inclined his head. _"Ex_ -cellent," he said. "Now. Has anyone got any _useful_ suggestions for what ought to be done about our little terrorist problem?"

There were five full seconds of strained, sweaty silence.

"Hasn't one of them got a car?" Pyrion asked, suddenly ceasing his pen-twirling. "Isn't that how you found them last time, Nano?"

"Er, yeah," said Nano. "Y-yeah, that's right."

"If only it were so easy," Xephos sighed. "We attempted to locate the vehicle last week. Either its GPS unit has been removed, or it is currently at the bottom of the river. An admirable idea, Pyrion, but alas, ineffective."

"Why don'tcha just look for the bird girl?" Sips asked. "She's gotta stick out like a—like a real sticky-outy thing."

"Ooh, nice plan, Sipsy," Sjin said.

Nano folded her hands in her lap and focused on breathing normally. She took note of the wood grain of the table, each swirl and squiggle. She clenched her teeth firmly.

"We _have_ been," Martyn sighed. "We've been looking for all of them, but it's not as though it's easy. Have you got any idea what it's like, trying to find four people in a city this size? Especially when you haven't got good imagery of any of their faces."

"Didn't your robot get a good look at them?" Turps asked Xephos. "Why hasn't _it_ got their faces on file, then?"

 _"He_ has," Xephos replied. Turps shrank back in his chair, grinning nervously. "We have been attempting to match the data with various licenses and passports and—before you inquire—various security camera feeds, and as yet we have not been able to make any positive identifications. Either they have been very careful to obscure their faces when they are causing trouble—as Nilesy—or they have been very careful not to be seen or recorded, which is likely what the others have been doing. We are not dealing with amateurs, Turps. We will have to do better than that."

"Right," said Turps. His voice had cracked, and he cleared his throat. "So, er. . . ."

"Aha!" the Director cried suddenly, bringing his hand down on the table. Nano started so violently that it set off her broken rib, making her wince in pain.

"I take it you have an idea, sir," Xephos said dryly.

"Yeah! I've got a fuckin' _grand_ idea!"

"This'll be good," Sjin muttered to Sips, who grinned with a mouth full of crystalline yellow teeth.

"Oy, you shut up, or I'll set Xeph on you," the Director snapped, jabbing a finger at the two of them.

"What? Why?" Sjin cried, pressing a hand to his chest and affecting an innocent expression.

"Let's just hear this idea, shall we?" Pyrion said.

Everyone looked at the Director, who fidgeted.

"Ah. Ahem. Yeah, all right. My idea. Okay, so we can't find 'em by their cars or their faces or what the fuck ever bollocks you've all been faffing on about. But all right, how's this: they've gotta be payin' for shit _somehow."_

Once again, there was a moment of stunned silence.

"That's . . . actually a good point," Martyn said, sounding awed.

"It could work," Pyrion allowed. "Provided they aren't operating solely in cash. I would be, in their place."

"Yes, and to that effect," Xephos said. His eyes were sparkling. "Honeydew, what makes you think that wasn't the very _first_ thing I looked into?"

The Director deflated. "Oh," he said. "Yeah, all right. 'Course you have. Sorry, just thought—yeah."

"It was an excellent idea, friend," Xephos assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Sadly, unhelpful at this time."

"Look," the Director said, folding his arms. "If you've already thought of bloody everything, why're we havin' this meetin', anyway?"

"I can't possibly think of _everything,_ sir," he replied easily. "I should hate for anyone to get hurt on account of an unfortunate bout of hubris."

"Why don't you tell us everything you _have_ tried?" Turps suggested. "So we don't end up repeating them for bloody hours."

Xephos considered him for a long moment, then shrugged and let out a put-upon sigh.

"Well," he said. "That highly depends on how long you're prepared for this meeting to be."

Everyone in the room, with the sole exceptions of Pyrion and Xephos himself, let out a long and agonized groan.

* * *

 

Nano got home at one o'clock in the afternoon, exhausted and still highly uncomfortable. She'd kept quiet through most of the remainder of the meeting, wary of drawing attention to herself. Clearly something was bothering Xephos—he wasn't usually _quite_ so overtly threatening, even when it came to matters of Lalna—and she was less than prepared to deal with the fallout of his anger.

Besides, she wasn't entirely willing to sell out Lomadia, not with the threat of forced amputation looming in the background. Whether or not it was true, she wasn't going to risk it unless she was absolutely certain an arrest was necessary.

And between Lomadia's denunciations of YogLabs and Xephos's unsettling behavior, she was not at all certain that Lomadia—or even her teammates— _should_ be apprehended.

Lalna was not in the front room when she arrived back, but Rythian was, lying on the couch with his obligatory ice-packs on his broken ribs, watching TV. Ever since he'd figured out that the gloves she'd gotten him for his phone worked to protect most electronic devices, he'd been channel-surfing almost non-stop, possibly just for the pleasure of pushing the buttons.

"Ribs giving you trouble again?" she asked, as she slipped off her shoes and padded towards the kitchen.

"Still," Rythian corrected. "Long meeting?"

"You have _no idea,"_ she sighed. As she rooted through the refrigerator for a late lunch, she raised her voice to continue talking to Rythian. "Where's Lalna?"

"Working on something in their room," Rythian answered. "They said not to bother them. Apparently it's very secret."

Nano found some leftover lo mien and stuck it in the microwave.

"All their personal projects are top-secret," she told him. "Not sure why. I think they don't like people to see things in progress. They only let me look at the bottle tree and the puzzle when they decided they wanted help. It's probably something for you."

"Really?" Rythian said, his voice going high and squeaky. "Like—like what?"

Nano came to lean on the kitchen doorway so she could watch him bounce his feet happily. She was fairly certain he didn't even know he was doing it, and since he kept his feet propped up on the sofa's armrest most of the time, it was generally easy to observe. It was rather like watching a dog wag its tail.

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know," she said. "They've never had a crush before. They like to make these little metal flower things, you might get one of them. Or it could just be another capacitor."

Rythian's feet tapped out a little dance on thin air.

"I liked the capacitor," he admitted.

"I noticed," said Nano. "I'm sure you could get them to install it for you. Where d'you think they'd put it?"

His feet paused. "Don't say what I think you're going to say."

 _"Rrrrright_ up your arse," Nano said anyway, grinning

"Oh, shut _up,"_ he whined. She laughed at him.

The microwave beeped, and she went to retrieve her noodles. Once she had them, she went to sit in the living room with Rythian. He was thumbing the remote repeatedly, flipping channels without even looking at the TV.

"Having fun?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He flicked through eight channels before he answered.

"Nano, do you . . . can I ask you a question?" he said. His voice was soft and nervous.

She stuck her chopsticks into the lo mien and gave him her full attention.

"Go for it," she said.

Another twelve channels went by unheeded.

"Do you think . . . with the gloves and everything . . . do you think it would be safe for me to, maybe, just a little bit . . . um. Touch Lalna?"

She blinked at him. He flushed deeply and started flipping channels faster.

"Not like in a—in a weird way, it's not like that, just—just maybe, I don't know, like . . . holding hands? Or something? Just a little, just to—you know—"

"No," Nano said quietly.

"What?" Rythian cried, looking up at her. "Why _not?"_

"Because it isn't _safe,_ Rythian," she said. "It's not worth it if you _kill_ them."

"I wouldn't—that's not—the gloves work fine, you've seen how they work—"

"It's not _good enough._ There's too much margin for error."

"How can you be sure?" he demanded. He was clutching the remote in his fist, holding down the channel-change button. "How could you possibly know that?"

"How can _you_ be sure you _won't_ kill them?" she retorted. "It's not _worth it,_ Rythian."

"You can't—" he began, sitting up.

There was a sudden _crack,_ and the remote control spat out a mouthful of sparks. Blue smoke started curling from its plastic seams. The TV picked a channel and remained there.

Rythian looked down at the remote in his hand and swallowed heavily. His sitting up had brought the end of the remote in contact with his bare wrist.

"I'm sorry, Rythian," Nano said gently.

"No, I . . . I'm sorry," he managed, his voice choked. "You're—you're right. I'm . . . forget I said anything. Sorry. About your remote."

"It's all right," she told him. "If there's anything I can do to help, just . . . let me know, yeah?"

He was quiet for a long moment, while the TV chattered in the background.

"Are there more noodles?" he asked.

 


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody buckled up?

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Solutions Tower was an egregious eyesore of a building, hyper-modern and colossal, the epitome of wealth without style. Xephos despised the building, despised whoever had made it, and despised everyone who had the gall to work there.

Strife Solutions hired a very specific kind of employee, and they were, every last one of them, complete bastards.

Xephos walked inside, his shoes clicking on the polished marble floor. The walls were paneled in maroon and black, giving the place a stifling, oppressive feel. There were cast-iron benches against the walls. There were potted plants, but they were plastic, and looked it.

There was nothing more depressing, Xephos thought, than a fake sunflower.

He came up to the front desk, a hulking monolith of stained oak, and cleared his throat.

The boy behind the desk glanced up at him and tossed his head to flick the hair out of his face. He was filing his nails.

"Name?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Dr. Llewellyn Xephos," Xephos answered. "I have a meeting with Mr. Strife."

"Uh-huh," said the boy. He flicked his hair out of his face again. "What time was that meeting, then?"

"Two o'clock," said Xephos.

The boy checked his watch and raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're late," he said. "As ooooof . . . now. Elevator takes two minutes to get up there."

Xephos clenched his teeth and smiled at the boy.

"What was your name, young man?" he inquired.

"You can call me Mr. Parvis," said the boy. He tossed his head again.

"Ah, yes," said Xephos. "I knew I remembered you from somewhere. As I recall, Alexander C. Parvis, age twenty-five as of this April, lately of YogLabs Section L reception. . . ."

Parvis's eyes had gotten rather wide. Xephos slammed his hands down on the counter and loomed over him, speaking in a vicious hiss that chilled his teeth.

_"I got you this fucking job and I will have you fired so fast it will make your vapid little head spin."_

Parvis shrank, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh," he said. _"That_ Dr. Xephos."

"Yes," Xephos said, smiling at him. "It's astonishing how many people think there's more than one."

Parvis swallowed. "I'll—I'll call Strifey, shall I? Tell him you're here for your meeting or whatever."

"Please do," said Xephos, still looming over him.

Parvis picked up the phone on his desk, punched in four numbers, and held it up to his ear. He scooted his chair a little farther back.

"Hallo, Strifey," he said into the phone, and then winced, holding it away from his ear. "Uh-huh, sorry, Mr. Strife. Your two o'clock's here, anyways." He paused, glancing at Xephos. "Yep, I'll send him right up."

Parvis hung up the phone and dug a keycard out from a drawer next to his desk. He handed it across to Xephos, who only straightened up again once he had it in his hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Parvis," he said, adjusting his shirt and tie. "I'll commend you on your excellent work ethic."

"You will?" said Parvis, brightening.

"Oh, yes," said Xephos. He smiled at Parvis again, and watched the expression have its usual effect of completely unsettling whoever it was pointed at. "In detail, Mr. Parvis."

"Uh," said Parvis, fidgeting. "Uh, thanks?"

 _"In-_ cidentally," said Xephos, turning towards the elevator. "If you haven't written up a will recently, you might consider doing so in the near future."

Parvis made a tiny squeaking noise, and Xephos left him there to sweat.

On the elevator ride up, Xephos adjusted his suit to make sure it was impeccable. He had gone for something restrained this meeting—it simply didn't do to look anything less than perfect in front of Strife. His trousers and jacket were black, tailored to fit. He was wearing a pale blue dress shirt, its threads individually coated with a hydrophobic resin that would keep any sweat from soaking into it. He was wearing his only silk tie, a classy white-and-gold affair that never quite hung straight no matter how he wrestled with it. He'd polished his shoes until they shone and cleaned every last smudge from his glasses.

In the mirror-like bronze walls of the elevator, his reflection stared back at him, implacable and stern. It was, he thought, the best he was going to get.

The elevator reached the penthouse and stopped, its doors sliding open with a gentle _ding._ Xephos walked past—and showed his ID to—no fewer than four security guards on his way down the corridor to the corner office. The walls were paneled with cherry wood, hung with original Monets and Van Goghs. The potted plants up here were real, and they were lush. The carpet on the floor was a tasteful maroon, patterned with diagonal black lines.

Xephos reached the door to the corner office and adjusted his suit one last time. He ran a hand back over his hair, straightened his glasses, and knocked on the dark stained oak.

"In," someone barked from inside, their voice rough and deep.

Xephos turned the bronze doorknob and let himself in.

If the corridor outside had been plush, the penthouse was simply opulent. There was a huge bay window overlooking the downtown area, the glass tinted to a faint rosy color. The shelves and cases against the walls were filled with enough sculpture, jewelry, and rare books to make even the most austere of museums blush. There was a fully-stocked, glass-faced drinks cabinet. There was a huge mahogany desk, its surface covered with dark red velvet and neatly stacked paperwork. There was a gold nameplate affixed to the front of the desk that read _William Strife, CEO._

The man behind the desk watched with laser-focus as Xephos entered. He was of an age with Xephos, although he looked a good deal younger. His close-cropped hair was still golden, his face smoothed of all but the most respectable of wrinkles. He was dressed in a red silk shirt and a black silk vest and tie, and on his hands he wore four tasteful silver rings.

"Dr. Xephos," he said, rising.

Xephos approached the desk and extended a hand. "Mr. Strife," he replied.

Mr. Strife shook his hand. The two regarded each other carefully.

"You're late," Strife said.

"I wouldn't have been, if I hadn't been delayed by your incompetent staff. Tell me, do you always employ such low-quality workers?"

"Only when an old college friend insists I hire them," Strife answered.

Xephos raised his eyebrows. "And yet, despite this old friend's lack of insistence that the man _stay_ hired, he remains, lazy and impertinent. It makes one wonder, doesn't it, whether he might have some other attributes which make him . . . desirable."

Strife's eye twitched.

"Even _if_ he did," he growled, "and may I point out that he _doesn't,_ the old college friend who recommended him couldn't possibly take credit for having _known_ about said attributes."

"Couldn't he?" Xephos said brightly.

Strife ground his teeth, then spat, "No, he couldn't, because he'd get that smug smile knocked right off his face."

Xephos grinned.

"Will," he said warmly, by way of greeting.

"Elly," Strife replied. He turned away and crossed to the glass-faced cabinet against the wall. "Drink?"

"Please," said Xephos, seating himself in the leather chair in front of Strife's desk. "How goes the slander and petty theft?"

"Profitable," Strife answered, pouring out two whiskey sodas. He handed one to Xephos and kept the other. He sat down again. "How's the tinkering and brown-nosing?"

"More complex than you give it credit for, as always," Xephos replied. He sipped his drink.

"I don't know if you'd conveniently forgotten, Elly, but you and me _did_ go to the same school," Strife said.

"Oh, I remember quite well, _Mr._ Strife."

Strife smirked and downed half his drink in one go.

"You can keep your degrees. I'll be sitting over here on my side of the desk with my multi-billion-dollar enterprise and my _Mr."_

"Touché," said Xephos. "I assume there _was_ a reason you arranged this meeting, apart from having an excuse to trade witty banter with me. While amusing, I think it could be done just as easily _without_ dragging me away from work."

Strife opened one of his desk drawers and retrieved an elegant wooden box. He lifted the lid and took out a slender cigar.

"Mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," said Xephos.

"Good," said Strife. He removed a compact trimmer from the drawer and snipped the end off his cigar. He fished a match out of a box on his desk and lit the cigar, puffing at the end until the embers glowed. He blew out a slow breath of pale blue smoke and regarded Xephos through it. The thick smell of tobacco and peaches filled the room.

"I want my robot," he stated.

"Ah," said Xephos, his lip trying to curl. "That."

 _"That,"_ Strife confirmed. "You're six months late now, Elly. Where _is_ it?"

"There were some unforeseen setbacks," Xephos allowed. "We're still in the process of debugging, I'm afraid. It's taken rather longer than we'd hoped, but he should be ready in another few weeks."

Strife took a pull from his cigar. "Yeah, I'd be more likely to believe you if you hadn't said the same thing three months ago. I want my robot, Elly."

"Will, I'm simply trying to ensure that you get the full return on your investment," Xephos assured him. "I should hate to provide you with a substandard product simply because I was rushed."

"Oh, I'm sure you would," said Strife. "I wouldn't worry about that, if I were you. I can always demand a refund, hey?"

A cold hand tickled at the underside of Xephos's stomach.

"I don't think that'll be necessary, Will," he said.

"You don't? Well, ain't that spectacular. I _want._ My _robot."_

"Yes, so you've said," Xephos snapped. "You needn't keep repeating yourself, Will, it makes you sound like a petulant child."

Strife raised an eyebrow, and a little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, speaking of. What ever _did_ happen to that kid of yours? They ever find the body?"

Xephos's body locked down around him. His hands tightened on his pressed trousers, his jaw clenched hard enough to make his teeth ache, his lungs shriveled up inside him.

Strife barked out a sadistic excuse for a laugh. "Sorry," he said, and puffed on his cigar. "Business before pleasure."

Xephos took a sip of his drink and wrestled himself back under control.

"The simple fact of the matter is," he said, his voice clipped, "that your robot isn't ready. We're already doing everything we can to get him in working order, and these little tantrums you throw aren't expediting the process. What, precisely, are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"Let me put it to you this way," Strife said, leaning his elbows on his desk and making sharp jabs with his lit cigar. "I don't get my robot, I'm gonna start taking thumbs. Starting with yours. And then I'm gonna take back every last _cent_ I poured into that dingy little basement you call a lab, with interest, and in three weeks you and all your pretentious excuses for engineers will be begging on the streetcorners and wearing _rags."_

Xephos rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Will, there's no need for dramatics. We'll have your robot to you in good time once we're sure he's in proper working order. What's a few months between friends, anyway?"

"Elly, I didn't _fund_ your little project because we're buddies," Strife snapped. "I funded it because I wanted _results._ So for the last time: _where is my damn robot?"_

Xephos sighed through his nose and folded his arms, scowling.

"Would you like a demonstration?" he demanded. "To prove to you that I _am_ actually working on this? Would that extend the length of your patience by a few more weeks?"

Strife sat back again and drummed his fingers on the arm of his red leather chair.

"Wouldn't hurt," he said. He sucked on his cigar and blew the smoke out through his nose. "What kind of demonstration?"

"One that will make the news."

"Yeah, no." Strife clicked his fingers twice, looking at some piece of paperwork on his desk. "Gimme specifics, hey?"

"Snap your fingers at me again," Xephos said calmly, "and I shall be quite tempted to snap them _for_ you."

Strife raised his eyes, looked Xephos over, and smirked.

"Still gets you just as good," he noted. "Thought you might've grown out of that one."

"You aren't the only person in this room with limited patience, Will."

Strife's smirk cracked open, showing pearly white teeth. He had another puff on his cigar.

"Still want those specifics," he said.

"Ever heard of a place called _Joule's?"_ Xephos asked.

"Nope," said Strife.

"It's a nest of freaks. I'll have our prototype clear it out. Will that be an acceptable demonstration of progress, or are you going to play hard-to-get?"

"Funny, you calling them freaks," Strife said.

"And why is that?" Xephos asked coldly, his voice low.

Strife regarded him for a long moment, then blew a smoke ring and watched it drift up towards the ceiling.

"Because you work with 'em, of course," he said. "Would've thought you'd have a little more respect for your employees, hey?"

"A freak is a freak, Will," Xephos said. "Whether they're useful or not."

"Couldn't agree more," Strife mused.

Xephos smiled tightly and placed his palms on the velvet-topped desk.

"Well," he said. "This has been a very productive meeting, hasn't it? But if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare your robot for his demonstration."

Strife regarded him for a long moment, then got to his feet. Xephos followed suit, and the two of them shook hands across the desk.

"I'll give you three days," Strife said. "Then I'm sending my lawyers."

"Your generosity knows no bounds," Xephos remarked.

Strife's mouth kinked into another little smirk. "Looking forward to seeing you on the news, Elly," he said. His gaze was boring holes into Xephos's head.

Xephos smiled at him and threw the look back with interest.

"Looking forward to seeing you in hell, William," he said pleasantly.

Strife barked out a laugh and sat back down. Xephos turned smartly and left the office with Strife's attention hot against his back the whole way.

Only once he was three blocks away did he pull the company car into an alley and beat the steering wheel until his palms bruised.

* * *

 

"Now," Xephos said, leaning into the microphone over his control panel. "This particular simulation is going to be a bit more advanced than you're used to."

Lalna, standing in his designated footprint outside the steel bunker of a control room, cocked his head in puzzlement. Xephos had seventeen different cameras monitoring the simulation chamber, giving him a nearly complete view of the stadium-sized area. It had been kitted out to resemble a fully-stocked warehouse, and both Lalna and the bunker were located close to the main entrance.

"Please clarify," Lalna requested.

"Well," Xephos said, "I've had a look at some of the challenges you might be facing in the coming months, and I've designed a course around them. I can explain further once the simulation is over, but in this particular case, the experiment hinges on you entering into it blind. As it were. _Metaphorically_ blind, you won't literally be unable to see, ahah."

He wiped his hands on his trousers and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Okay," said Lalna.

"In all other respects, consider this a standard simulation," Xephos went on. "Eliminate the targets and incur minimal damage to yourself. And I do mean _all_ the targets, Lalna."

Again, he tipped his head to the side. "I understand," he said.

"Good! Well. Yes. Let's begin then, shall we? Actuators are powered, simulation software is ready. . . . Turning off communications, Lalna."

"Goodbye," said Lalna.

Xephos took his finger off the microphone's button and shook his head.

"I do wish you wouldn't say it like that," he muttered to himself, and turned to the computer, and pressed _RUN._

A loud buzzer sounded throughout the simulation chamber, and Lalna raised both hands to shoulder height, palms-out, the MALaRs in his wrists glowing cherry red to match his eyes. A steel cut-out of a Powered enemy popped up from behind a shelving unit, its face fixed in a feral snarl. There was a glowing hole between its eyes before it had even cleared the unit.

Xephos clasped his hands together and leaned forward, biting his lip.

Three more Powered simulants erupted from the maze of the warehouse, one with an automated pistol attached to it. Lalna shot this one first, although there was barely a half-second's pause between that shot and the two that followed. All three simulants were left dripping molten steel onto the floor from their foreheads.

"Good boy, that's it," Xephos muttered to himself, pressing his clasped hands to his lips.

A bullet, fired blind from behind a shelf, pinged off of Lalna's shoulder. Xephos winced, and Lalna fired clean through the shelves, hitting the hot barrel of the weapon dead-center. He fired again and put a glowing hole through the head of the offending simulant.

A full eighteen steel cut-outs leapt and swung and dropped from behind the shelves. Lalna fired eight shots per second until all of the simulants had been scorched by his lasers. Such rapid fire required a reduction in power, and many of the simulants kept moving even after they had been hit. These Lalna shot again, putting neat holes through their heads. One did not stop even after this, and Lalna put another hole through its neck, a shot that would sever the spine of anything remotely humanoid.

"All right, here we go," Xephos said, his voice tense.

There was a gushing roar, and water flooded out across the chamber floor, an inch deep and ubiquitous. Lalna leapt into flight whole seconds before the water reached him. As the flood cascaded past the metal shelves, sparks leapt from its surface, crackling and hissing.

 _"Oh thank you God,"_ Xephos whispered to himself, bowing his head.

Lalna spun in the air until he managed to target the source of the flood—a steel simulant crouched on a wooden crate. He shot it, and it toppled into the water, electricity scurrying over its frame. It took him only a few seconds more to locate the simulant responsible for the electric charge and eliminate it, too. The waters drained, and the electricity dissipated.

When no more simulants popped out to attack, Lalna began sweeping the warehouse, rifles primed, moving quickly and efficiently. He found two more simulants hiding on top of the shelves and dispatched them. He took to the ground and hurried between the shelves. Near the back of the warehouse, the last target was thrown forth—green-skinned, wild-eyed, bound and gagged and lashed to a moving pole. Lalna raised his hand to point his palm right between the target's eyes.

And stopped.

The man tied to the pole thrashed and wriggled, the fluorescent lights gleaming on his bald green head. Lalna stood utterly still, watching him, his eyes growing paler and paler with each passing second.

"For _God's_ sake," Xephos hissed. He got to his feet and pressed the button on the microphone. "Lalna! Shoot him."

"I—I—" Lalna stammered. His eyes had gone pale orange with frightened confusion.

Xephos cursed again. "I'm exiting the bunker. Hold position."

He fairly kicked the door open, then stormed through the warehouse to where Lalna was standing, his MALaR no longer primed, although he was still aiming at the man's head.

"Lalna," Xephos said sternly as he approached. He gestured to the man. "Why have you failed to eliminate this target?"

"He is—he is _alive,"_ Lalna said. There was a low buzz in his voice.

"Yes, well spotted," Xephos said. "He is also a target. Eliminate him. Lethal force is authorized."

Slowly, Lalna shook his head. The man was trembling, sweat pouring down his green skin, his black eyes wide and darting. He was chewing the gag in his mouth, and drool was dribbling down his chin.

"I—I ca _aaa_ n't," Lalna said, the words flanging with distress.

"Yes," Xephos assured him, "you can. This man is a criminal, Lalna. He is an arsonist and a murderer, a madman. He has been fairly tried and sentenced to death. A jury of his peers declared him unfit to live. You are his executioner. _Shoot,_ Lalna."

His MALaR primed again, but he did not fire.

"But . . . but. . . ." he said. One of his cooling fans had spun up so high it was whining.

"Lalna," Xephos snapped. "This is your _function._ Shoot him, or I will do it _for_ you."

Lalna held perfectly still for eighteen seconds, MALaR primed, ticking and whirring and whining as he thought.

"He's no better than Nilesy," Xephos said softly. "If you cannot dispatch _him,_ how can you possibly hope to protect Rythian?"

Lalna did not move, did not speak. His eyes flickered. The MALaR was fading in and out, its power fluctuating. The man squirmed and whimpered, eyes darting between Lalna and Xephos, his pleas rendered incoherent by the gag. He was crying.

Lalna's arm dropped a fraction. Xephos sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Override," he said.

Lalna froze, and his eyes went pure, blazing white.

"Prime right MALaR to full power," Xephos ordered. The system began to whine as energy was poured into it. "Adjust aim two degrees towards zenith. Fire."

Lalna's arm slid easily back up, and with a _pop,_ the laser rifle discharged.

The man's head exploded.

It was one of the messy quirks of the laser rifle system, that it would flash-boil any water it came in contact with. There had been no avoiding it—efficiency took precedence over cleanliness. Xephos had been standing far enough away that hardly any blood wound up on his shirt and shoes, but Lalna was splattered with it liberally.

His eyes went dark, and there was a terrible declining whirr, and he shut down.

"No no _no!"_ Xephos cried, darting over. He grabbed Lalna by the shoulder, as though it would do any good. The robot remained still, utterly dark, utterly silent. Xephos cursed vehemently and kicked him in the calf with a loud _clank._

"Stupid piece of _shit!"_ he cried, teeth gritted. "Fucking useless—stupid—god _dammit!"_

He whirled away from Lalna and stalked a few paces off, breathing heavily through his nose, his jaw and fists clenched. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his teeth.

"Setbacks," he muttered to himself. "Simple, easy setbacks. Solvable problems. It's _fine,_ Xephos. It's fine. It'll still work. You can make it work. You've just _distressed_ him unduly, you idiot."

He glared over his shoulder at Lalna, standing like particularly gruesome yard-art with blood dripping from his outstretched arm, and shook his head.

"Sorry," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. He sighed. "Best get this mess cleaned up, anyway."

And he took out his phone, and called in a clean-up crew to deal with the blood and the ruined steel simulants.

"And please take Lalna to his stasis dock in my lab," he added. "Before he reboots, I'll need to download some files. . . ."

 


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: many kudos to Kal who originated the scarf idea. It got put in last-minute simply because they mentioned something about it, without knowing that this particular conversation was even going to happen. So thanks!

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Reclining on Nano and Lalna's couch, feet propped up on the armrest, Rythian considered his options.

On the one hand, Lalna wouldn't be going into another sleep cycle for another half hour. They were sitting at the kitchen table, twisting copper wires into some kind of pattern. They'd been strangely quiet for the past two days, ever since Xephos had come and collected them for a training exercise. Rythian had tried to ask what was wrong, but Lalna had gone practically nonverbal, and refused adamantly to admit that anything was wrong. Nano hadn't been able to get through to them either, and had told Rythian that they would bounce back on their own, eventually—that pushing them would only make things worse. They were a delicate consciousness, after all, and God only knew what kind of wringer Xephos had put them through.

Rythian had wanted to believe this, had wanted to believe that the moody silence was some kind of rebellion against the YogLabs overlords, that Lalna was upset because of some incautious or downright cruel thing Xephos had said to them—it would certainly be in character for Xephos, if nothing else.

The idea was rather difficult to swallow, though, on account of the way Lalna's eyes had stayed a dull and smoky red for the entire two days, like hot coals. Rythian knew enough about them to know that they were angry—persistently, unwaveringly _furious_ for two days straight. It was starting to put him on edge, much as he wanted to help.

On the other hand, Zoey had invited him out for drinks with her and Fiona, and had promised to cover him. Nano had already gone to bed, so he didn't even have to worry about explaining things to her or, worse yet, having to bring her along.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He pulled his gloves on and took it out, opening the new message. It was from Zoey.

 

_Hiya! We're headed out. See you there? xoxo Z_

 

Rythian sat up and looked over at Lalna. They were twisting a wire between their fingers, watching it stretch and bend and grow fragile at the center. It snapped with a little _click,_ and they sat staring at the broken ends, perfectly still. Rythian answered his text.

 

_Yes!! I will see you there Have to walk over probably 1 our!!_

 

With a sigh, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and got up, stretching.

"Lalna?" he said.

They raised their head a fraction.

"I'm heading out. Zoey's um . . . invited me out for drinks. With her and Fiona. Just a friends kind of thing. Um. So that's—where I'm going. Um. I think it'll be okay this time, since . . . yeah. Friends and everything. So. If you need me, I have my phone."

They gave him a thumbs-up, otherwise remaining perfectly still.

"Right," Rythian sighed. He headed for the door, then stopped halfway there. "Um. I—I won't be back before you do your . . . sleep . . . thing. So—so good night. Um. And . . . I love you."

Lalna was silent for a long moment, then said, "I love you too, Rythian."

Tension Rythian hadn't known he was carrying flowed out of his shoulders and back. He smiled to himself, rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded.

"That's . . . good. I—I really hope you feel better soon. Whatever's wrong."

Lalna did not respond, but their eyes darkened.

Rythian hesitated, trying to find the right words to say. When they didn't come, he just sighed, and shook his head, and took his leave.

* * *

 

Zoey and Fiona had already secured a table by the time Rythian got there, waving him over with cheery smiles. They had gotten him a gin and tonic, and he fell upon it with enthusiasm.

"You spoil me," he told Zoey, grinning.

"Yep!" said Zoey. "I'm not the only one, either. Go on, babe."

Blushing, Fiona drew out a long, knitted scarf, striped with bright yellow and cyan and magenta. She passed it across the table to Rythian, who accepted it like it was a baby.

"You mentioned, about the whole pan thing," Fiona said. "And Zoey said how they'd got rid of your scarf and hadn't got you a new one, so . . . yeah. D'you like it?"

Carefully, Rythian draped the scarf over his shoulders, running his hands over it. The ends of it trailed the seat. It was soft, and smelled of lavender.

"It's . . . it's wonderful," he said, choked up. "Thank you."

"Told you he'd like it, babe," Zoey said, grinning. "She made it herself. She's super-good at knitting and stuff."

"I—it's . . . really great," Rythian managed. He sniffled and cleared his throat. "Thanks. A lot. Um. I—I feel _really_ spoiled, now."

"I think you'd probably better get used to being spoiled," Fiona mentioned. "Zoey's not going to quit anytime soon."

"I might," Zoey pointed out. "If, y'know, I had somebody _else_ to spoil. . . ."

"Again with the puppy thing," Fiona sighed. "I've said, babe. They're too bite-sized."

"You'd be _fine!"_ Zoey assured her. Somewhere by the bar, a glass broke. Rythian glanced up briefly, but disregarded it.

"I really don't want to risk it," Fiona mumbled. "Rythian's a lot harder to eat, and he's _basically_ a puppy."

"Thanks," he said dryly, and took a sip of his gin and tonic. "Why don't you just spoil Fiona?"

"I do, though!" Zoey chirped. "But I don't have to spoil just one person. Right? I'll just spoil everyone! It'll be great!"

Fiona nudged her arm, smiling. Zoey nudged back.

A brief pang of loneliness shot through Rythian's heart, sharp and aching. He took a long sip of his drink and it went away.

Suddenly, someone was standing at their table, towering and breathless. Rythian looked up into Jess's golden eyes, startled to find them brimming with tears.

"I am _so fuckin' sorry,"_ she said, her voice raw.

"Um—hi—no, it's okay," he assured her, uncomfortable.

 _"Okay?"_ she demanded. "You got—you got—fuckin' roofied!"

Rythian glanced at Zoey, his heart pounding. He smiled nervously and held up placating hands.

"Y-yeah, well, it's fine though," he said. "Really. No—no long-term harm. Honestly. A-and not your fault. Definitely not your fault."

Jess folded her arms and shifted her weight. She tossed her head and sniffled.

"Yeah, but . . . I ever see that little shit again, I'll rip his fuckin' balls off."

"I . . . am fully in support of that," Rythian said.

"And you get free drinks on me," she added.

Rythian's eyebrows shot up. "Are— _seriously?"_

She managed a smile. "Yeah. Not gonna make you pay for gettin' drugged, am I? Besides, nobody else handles your drinks but _me,_ from now on."

"You—you really don't have to do that, Jess," he said, blushing.

"Says you," she responded. "I'll do whatever I damn well please, thanks."

He regarded her for a long moment, then said, "Thank you."

"My pleasure, luv," she said. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Now I've got to get back to work, but if you need anything, you just flag me down, all right?"

"Got it," he said.

She smiled at him and moved away. He fidgeted, sipping more of his gin.

"Roof—" Zoey began. Rythian held up a finger.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly.

"Oh," said Zoey. "Ummm. Okay. Well—she seems nice, anyway! Super gorgeous. Maybe you should ask her out."

Rythian looked up at her, frowning. "Uhh," he said. "She's . . . not really my type."

 _"Really?"_ asked Zoey, as though it was inconceivable that Jess could be _not someone's type._ "What's your type then? Other than me."

A bright red flush rose to his cheeks and he buried his face in his hands. "I hate you," he mumbled.

"Aww, seriously, babe?" Fiona said, a grin audible in her voice.

"Mm," said Zoey. "It was super cute, though."

"Someday, when I rule the world, I will make it illegal to talk about my _old_ and _extinct_ crush on you," Rythian said. He had some more gin.

"Sorry," Zoey said, although she didn't sound it. "But really. What's your type? Maybe I could find you a—a date-mate."

"I don't _know,"_ Rythian sighed, rolling his eyes. "What's—what's _your_ type?"

"Me?" said Zoey, grinning. "Oh, I like my women big and super strong and mega cute and extra sweet and—"

Fiona leaned on her, laughing, and Zoey kissed her on the lips. Another pang shot through Rythian, the pain lingering for longer. The gin wasn't doing as much to numb it as he'd hoped it might.

 _"You're_ super cute," Fiona accused Zoey.

"Yeah, thanks," said Zoey. "But really, Rythian. You've got to have _some_ kind of type."

He shrugged, blushing.

"I don't know, I guess—nice? Funny? Um. Caring. Sweet—or, really, um, I think _affectionate_ is a better word? I think. Um. I don't know, freckles help."

"So like, maybeeee, Lalna?" Zoey suggested slyly.

Rythian nearly combusted. "No—I—what—why would you even—" he sputtered. Zoey and Fiona both laughed.

"Confirmed," Fiona said.

"Super-confirmed," Zoey agreed. "And _super_ -cute, like—"

The door blew in off its hinges, and someone screamed.

In the seconds that followed, so many things happened that Rythian couldn't keep track of all of them, barely had time to realize any of it had even happened.

Lalna came striding through the door like silver death, their eyes fire-engine red. The bouncer was dead on the ground outside, his head just _gone._ There were more screams, blood spattered the walls as Lalna fired upon the patrons. Glass shattered, something caught fire, Rythian dove below the table in abject terror. He hauled Zoey and Fiona down too, his hands clawing and desperate. There was a constant _pop-pop-pop_ noise, the sound of the laser rifles discharging, and screaming and crashing and the spatter of fluids and the crackle of fire.

Zoey darted out from under the table.

"Zoey, _no!"_ Rythian screamed, trying to catch her—but too late. Fiona tried to follow her and Rythian grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back, bracing himself against the table's support that was bolted to the floor. She could easily have dragged him out, but didn't—there was no time, anyway.

Zoey planted her feet and held up a hand, mimicking Lalna's firing posture. Her palm glowed with brilliant light, and she spoke in a loud, commanding voice.

"YogLabs PID!" she cried. "Stop right—"

Lalna did not even turn to look at her before firing.

There was an explosion of blood and tissue and bone, and she fell back, and Fiona _screamed._

Zoey lay on the floor, the shredded stump of her right arm pouring blood onto the floor, her eyes wide and staring, her face pale. She hiccuped and twitched, gasping for breath, while the terrible discharge of the laser rifles went on, until no one was left standing.

Lalna lowered their hands, stood still for three seconds, then turned on their heel and left.

There was a steady pattering of fluid, and the crackle of flame, and whimpers and moans. Fiona broke free of Rythian's numb grasp and scrambled to Zoey's side, words tumbling over her lips urgently as she took off her jacket and wrapped it around the flayed stump of Zoey's arm, tears streaming down her face.

Rythian crawled out from under the table, shaking and stunned, and stared at the ruin around him.

There was blood splattered on the walls and pooling thickly on the floor, bodies on the ground and on the tables and slumped over the bar. Some were still alive, still twitching and moaning. Some were terribly, awfully still. Half the bottles behind the bar had broken, and the computer there had caught fire.

His mind full of static, his body numb and floating, Rythian tottered out of the bar, eyes wide and unseeing. His feet carried him away, far off into the dark and chilly night. He hardly realized he was walking.

At some point, the horror of it caught up to him, and he found a dim corner to throw up in. The bile stung his throat, and pressed tears from his eyes, and once he'd started crying he couldn't stop. He staggered on, down a dark alley, found a dumpster to hide behind and curled up against the wall, sobbing and shivering and sicker than he'd ever been. Terror was buzzing in his brain, terror and disbelief and _guilt._

He should have seen this coming.

* * *

 

Hours passed, and the night grew colder. Curled up against the wall between a dumpster and a pile of cardboard boxes, sniffling and shaking, Rythian kept his eyes wide open, knowing full well what waited for him in the darkness. The trembling had not abated, the horror had not faded. He'd been sick two more times, and his throat was so burned that he couldn't swallow without it hurting. The scarf had fallen off somewhere along the way, and for some reason the fact kept swimming up in his brain, as though it was at all important compared to everything else that had happened. He shifted where he sat, and the phone in his pocket bumped against his leg.

With trembling hands, he put his gloves on and took the phone from his pocket. His mind was sluggish, uncoordinated. He had taken the phone out because it was there, and then he stared at it as though it had been handed to him without pretense or explanation. Oozing and tarry, his thoughts caught up with him and told him what to do next.

Rythian texted the one unnamed number in his phone, only there because it had been used before. There was almost no chance there was still anyone on the other end of it, but he sent the text anyway, because he had nowhere else to turn, and if he remained alone and in silence, he felt it would shatter him.

 

_you were right_

 

Rythian stared at the phone, tears slowly leaking down his face. There was no response. Hollow and aching, he curled up against the wall and rested his forehead on his knees. This new pain was easier, and so he focused on it, to the exclusion of all else.

"Makes sense," he muttered to himself. "Got rid of the phone. Wouldn't want me finding him with it. Wouldn't want _them_ finding him with it. Christ."

He sniffled, trying to keep from dripping any more snot onto the inside of his respirator. His chest was a raw mass of pain, tangled with worry and fear and betrayal.

He should have seen it coming. In retrospect, all the signs were staring him right in the face—their laser rifles, their complete unconcern about Rythian being blackmailed into the Division, their talk of _never letting Nilesy hurt him again_ —and he'd just _ignored_ it, ignored all of it because they had been kind to _him_ and they had seemed harmless to _him_ and they had cared about _him._ He had never once considered that he might be an outlier.

He had never once considered that he was being played.

A broken little sob burst through Rythian's lips, and he curled up smaller, hugging his legs, rocking back and forth. His trousers still smelled of Nano and Lalna's lab, of their detergent, their food, their lives. The way it filled him with longing made him want to tear his own insides out with his bare hands.

Next to his foot, the phone buzzed. Rythian looked up quickly, his face stained with tears. He sniffled, staring down at the lit screen.

Carefully, he reached down and picked the phone up, then opened the new message.

 

_I'm so sorry, Rythian. Are you all right?_

 

Rythian gaped at the screen, a fresh round of tears welling up from his core. Unable to see straight, unable to keep his hand from shaking, he typed out a reply.

 

_i want to see you_

 

The response came back ten seconds later. It was an address by the river, an empty lot not far from the warehouse where Rythian had last been sent, and the words, _No rush._

Rythian struggled to his feet and started walking.

* * *

 

There was a familiar silhouette standing at the riverside, its hands clasped behind its back. Rythian approached slowly, coming to stand about an arm's length to their left, looking out on the river.

"What happened?" Nilesy asked, his voice quiet. He, too, was looking out over the river, his face unreadable under the mask.

Rythian had to swallow three times before he could answer.

 _"Joule's,"_ he said. "They . . . took the whole bar out."

Nilesy shut his eyes and bowed his head.

"How many dead?" he asked.

"I don't know," Rythian answered. His insides had gone trembly, as though he was full of jelly structures that were threatening to fall with every movement. He reached up to touch the scarf that wasn't there anymore. "My—my friend, she . . . she lost her . . . arm."

Nilesy looked over at him, his face drawn.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he said. "Is she all right?"

"Apart from losing an arm?" Rythian asked sarcastically.

Turning his eyes back to the river, Nilesy said, "Sorry. Stupid question."

Rythian shrugged. The two of them stood in silence for some time, while the river lapped at its banks.

"I don't know what to do," Rythian admitted. The two-hour walk had settled his mind somewhat, but all it had settled into was murk and pain.

"So you're asking _me?"_ Nilesy inquired, looking over at him again.

"You seem to know more about it than anyone else I've talked to."

"That's obvious, but I'd think you'd already know what I've got to say about it."

"Maybe I'm not sure I know you that well."

"You don't have to know me very well to know how I feel about Xephos's war machine."

Rythian fidgeted while something cold traversed his intestines.

"I'm . . . I'm asking you . . . what _I_ should do."

Nilesy turned to face him, for once not smiling.

"Does it know you've figured it out?" he asked.

"They," Rythian corrected automatically.

The corner of Nilesy's mouth curled up.

"Even now?" he wondered.

Rythian swallowed, and hesitated, and said, "I don't think . . . _it_ . . . knows. No."

"So if you were to, say, walk in the front door and give it a friendly handshake," Nilesy suggested.

_An explosion of sparks, blue smoke pouring from their joints, their eyes bursting in a shower of broken glass, their body falling limp at his feet, a heap of scrap metal with no life left in it—_

"No," Rythian blurted, sick to his stomach. He shook his head, and repeated more softly, "No. I can't."

Nilesy nodded. "I understand."

"You _do?"_ Rythian asked, shocked.

Nilesy met his eyes for a long, breathless moment.

"Yes," he said. "I do."

Rythian was on the verge of asking _how_ when he realized he really, _really_ didn't want to know. He fidgeted, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his YogLabs jacket and shrugging.

"So what?" he asked. "Now I just . . . run from them? For the rest of my life?"

Nilesy tipped his head to the side, his mouth quirking.

"You _do_ understand you've got more options than _destroy the robot_ or _disappear,_ don't you?" he asked.

Puzzled, Rythian asked, "Like what?"

Again, Nilesy regarded him for a long moment before answering, and when he did, his voice was soft and honeyed.

"As it happens," he said, his eyes glittering in the half-light, "we've actually got a job opening at the moment. And I think you'd be just _perfect_ for it."

Rythian's stomach turned a flip. He swallowed.

"Is this the same job where if I turn you down, you kill me?" he asked.

Nilesy smiled at him. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe that's not the wisest sort of question to ask?"

His heart skipped a beat, and he took a hurried step back, but Nilesy was laughing to himself, shaking his head.

"No," he said. "No consequences for turning me down. I've already failed to kill you twice. I'd hate to find myself third time lucky."

Rythian took a deep breath, trying to quell the shaking nervousness from his limbs. Nilesy hadn't moved, and his hands remained clasped behind his back. The river was still too close for comfort, though, wide and slow and dark.

"This . . . job," he said. "What would I be . . . doing?"

"Eventually, helping us destroy YogLabs and everything it stands for," Nilesy answered sardonically. He softened, adding, "But initially, I think, it'd mostly be laying low while the rest of us get rid of the robot."

The ache in Rythian's chest made a resurgence, and he turned his eyes back to the water, blinking back tears.

"I just. . . ." he said, and shook his head. "I can't believe they would _do_ something like this. I can't . . . it just doesn't make any _sense._ They wouldn't. They _wouldn't."_

"It's a machine, Rythian," Nilesy murmured. "It's got to do what it's told."

"But—" he said, and choked on the lump in his throat. Unbidden, a quiet sob slipped out through his lips. He wrapped his arms around his own waist and huddled in on himself.

Nilesy stepped closer and reached out a hand towards Rythian's arm.

 _"Don't,"_ Rythian snarled, flinching away. Nilesy's hand fell back to his side.

"I'm sorry," he said. He sounded almost _lost._

Rythian shook his head, not trusting himself to speak again without bursting into tears.

Carefully, Nilesy moved to stand in front of him, facing him. He held out both hands, palms up, halfway between the two of them.

"I want to help, Rythian," he said. "In any way I can."

A hundred half-formed recollections jostled in Rythian's head—the sharp pain of having his ribs broken, the smell of hot macaroni and cheese, the crushing silence of drowning, the quick kiss planted against his new respirator, the brief warmth of a pair of arms around him—

He dodged between Nilesy's outstretched hands and embraced him, clutching him close. Nilesy yelped in alarm, going stiff—but then he wrapped his arms around Rythian and gripped the collar of his jacket and pressed his face to Rythian's shoulder and squeezed him.

Rythian burst into tears, shattering all the way through. Nilesy said nothing, just continued to hold him tightly, his breath hot against Rythian's chest, and it had been so _long_ since anyone had held him like that, and he'd spent so much time wishing himself sick for a moment like this that it overwhelmed him. He was seized by a fierce affection, which boiled over all at once after a long and secret simmering, and it was only the strength of Nilesy's arms that kept him from crumbling to pieces on the spot.

Sniffling, fighting down yet further sobs, he asked, "Wh-where am I . . . going to go?"

Nilesy propped his chin on Rythian's shoulder and sighed.

"Well," he said, "you could go back to wherever you were before you took up with YogLabs. You could find someplace of your own, I s'pose, though rent might prove troublesome." He paused. "You could come home with me."

Something took Rythian's heart in its hand and made a fist.

"That," he blurted. Almost as quickly, the blood rushed to his face, as though trying to chase down the word and pull it back.

Nilesy scoffed and rested his forehead against Rythian's neck. The surface of the mask was cool and smooth, pleasant against Rythian's too-hot skin.

"Shall I take that to mean you're accepting my offer?" he asked.

Trembling, aching, and distraught, Rythian answered, "Yes."

"Welcome aboard, Rythian," Nilesy said. He patted his back. "Now if you don't mind letting me go. . . ."

 


	22. Chapter 21

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The flat was small, and dingy, and out-of-the-way. Its exterior was poorly lit, and the iron handrail was rusted, black paint flaking off in sharp-edged chips. The stairs rattled and clanked as the two of them ascended. Nilesy stopped on the doorstep of Number 306 and turned to face Rythian.

"I should mention," he said, somewhat cagily, "that the others _maaaay_ not react well to you at first. They're still a _bit_ upset over the whole electrocution thing."

"Really," said Rythian. "Am I allowed to still be a bit upset over the whole _drowning_ thing?"

"Ahah, yes, well, I think that's part of what might concern them," Nilesy said. With the mask on, it was difficult to tell whether or not his smile was genuine. "Just . . . let me do the talking, at least at first, and if anyone tries to kill you, I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't try to kill them back."

"Is that _likely?"_

Nilesy shrugged. "Panda's never liked you," he said. "If you feel a sharp stabbing pain anywhere, try not to pull the knife out. You'll only bleed to death faster."

"Oh," said Rythian faintly. "Fair enough. Wait—what do you mean, _never_ liked me?"

"I think he's jealous, to be perfectly honest," Nilesy sighed, turning back to the door and fishing a key out of his pocket.

 _"J-jealous?"_ Rythian stammered, blushing. "Of _what?_ Being _murdered?"_

"In my experience," Nilesy mused, unlocking the door, "murdered people don't complain quite so much. In you come."

And he slipped inside, leaving Rythian to scramble after him.

The interior of the flat was just as cramped and dingy as the outside, dimly lit. The living room was only separated from the kitchen by a small island, attached to the back of the sink. The linoleum was peeling, the carpet threadbare. There was a bay window with vertical plastic blinds; an old plywood shelving unit next to the door, cluttered with junk and papers; a large, ratty sofa and a sagging armchair in front of an ancient plasma screen television. On the furniture were three people, engaged in what appeared to be an extremely intense video game.

Most noticeable among them was the woman, perched owlishly on the back of the sofa, huge tawny wings sprouting from her back, yelling at the other two in a smooth alto about how the game was thoroughly broken. A dark-skinned boy sat cross-legged on the floor, laughing freely, his fingers so quick on the buttons that they blurred.

Sitting in the armchair, hunched forward and smirking smugly, was Zylus, his black-rimmed glasses tucked into the breast pocket of his flannel overshirt.

"I don't know how I didn't see that coming," Rythian said. Nilesy hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand.

All three of the others were on their feet in an instant, the game forgotten. The woman leapt down from the sofa and flexed her talons, her wings spread huge and quivering behind her. From nowhere, the boy produced two long, curved knives. Zylus shot up out of his chair and gaped, white showing all the way around his eyes, his hands shaking.

Rythian took in their expressions and their postures and came to the startling conclusion that they were _afraid_ of him.

Somewhat belatedly, Zylus vanished into thin air.

"What the _fuck_ is _he_ doing here?" the boy snarled, spitting the words through his teeth like venom.

"I did say I might be bringing someone home," Nilesy said, his voice perfectly calm.

"You were going to _kill_ him!" the boy retorted. "You _would've_ killed him!"

"Rest assured, we're both of us very aware of that fact," Nilesy said. "I'd say we've put it behind us. Would you say that, Rythian?"

"Yes," said Rythian. He kept looking between the knives and the talons, unsure of which he should be watching more closely.

Zylus reappeared, fading in like a cheap sildeshow transition. He was staring right at Rythian.

"He'sh telling the truth," he said, then added darkly, "sho far ash I can tell."

"I'd sort of figured, being that he's had the past half hour to kill me without any witnesses and he hasn't done it," said Nilesy, glibly.

 _"Why_ have you brought _him, here?"_ the boy demanded. His eyes were alight with fire, and the knives in his hands were sketching blurry squiggles in the air. Rythian decided that the talons were a less pressing danger, considering that the person they were attached to was not literally vibrating with rage.

Nilesy shrugged. "I couldn't very well send him back to YogLabs, now could I. Please put the knives away, Panda."

Begrudgingly, Panda tucked the two knives back out of sight.

Meanwhile, the owl woman had folded her wings and settled her posture. Claws ticking on the linoleum, she crossed to the door and looked Rythian up and down. The tops of her wings nearly brushed the stucco ceiling. She was a few inches taller than Rythian, almost as tall as Lalna.

Again, the sharp pain hit him in the chest like a wild spark, and he bit his lip to keep from wincing.

"You left YogLabs?" she asked, peering at him.

"Yes," he answered.

"Why?"

He shrugged, averting his eyes.

"Because . . . I've seen what they do to people like . . . like us."

The images boiled up in his head, vague and grimy. Zylus gasped like he'd had a bucket of cold water thrown on him.

"He'sh _definitely_ not lying about that," he said, sounding ill.

"Tell them," Nilesy instructed gently.

Haltingly, Rythian described what had happened at _Joule's._ It seemed years and miles away, and he could tell the story only in the most general of terms. There was a kind of hollowness in him, a space where feeling should have gone. He found he didn't mind much—it was easier than hurting, easier than admitting to himself that he had _been_ there, that he had seen these things with his own eyes. It was easier to tell it like he'd read a paragraph about it in the morning paper, so that was what he did.

When he had finished, the woman considered him for another long moment, then extended her hand.

"Lomadia," she said.

"What, just like that?" Panda cried, affronted.

Lomadia turned her head all the way around. Rythian recoiled in horror, and heard Nilesy snort.

"Why not?" Lomadia asked, her vocal cords apparently unimpeded by her head being turned around the wrong way.

"Because—because—you _know_ why not, Lom!"

"He's not going to hurt us," she said.

Panda fumed for a while, then spat, "Fine. But don't expect me to _like_ him."

He turned on his heel and stalked into one of the four adjoining rooms, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the bay window. Lomadia's head swiveled back around.

Cautiously, Rythian took her hand and touched her elbow. Her grip was surprisingly gentle.

"I'm . . . Rythian," he said. "It's good to meet you, Lomadia."

She smiled and took her hand back. "It's good to meet you, too. Nilesy talks about you a lot."

Nilesy made an urgent, abortive gesture, then pressed his knuckles to his lips and shut his eyes.

Sidling around Lomadia's wing, Zylus edged up to Rythian and cleared his throat, looking at something in the far corner of the room.

"I'm, uh," he said, fidgeting, "I'm shorry about the whole . . . drugging thing. Um. Honeshtly. It wash a—a real dick move and uh . . . not going to happen again. Ever. Sho . . . bygonesh?"

"Sure," said Rythian, because things couldn't possibly get any weirder and he'd already forgiven much worse today. "Bygones."

Zylus smiled tightly. "Thanksh. Shorry."

Nilesy leaned over and spoke in Rythian's ear, his lips far too close for comfort.

"It was his idea," he murmured.

"Shut up!" Zylus cried, flushing a bright crimson. "You shut up!"

Nilesy grinned fiendishly and settled back on his heels.

With a sideways look at Nilesy, Rythian said, "I should . . . probably _not_ ask what your idea was."

"Didn't have one," Nilesy replied, still grinning. "It was a team effort."

"Shtop it, Nileshy," Zylus mumbled.

"Oh, come now, if I can't joke about it with him, who _can_ I joke about it with?"

"No one?" Zylus guessed. "It'sh not funny?"

Nilesy let out a put-upon sigh and cast his eyes to the heavens.

"All right, I'll quit," he said. "I'd better go see to Panda, anyway. Make sure he's all right."

"He's stabbing his mattress," Lomadia said.

Rythian looked her up and down nervously, wondering how she could possibly know that.

"She can hear it," Zylus told him. Rythian jumped.

 _"Would you stop doing that,"_ he hissed.

"Shorry."

"He gets very nervous round new people," Lomadia said.

Zylus glared at her, still flushed tomato-red.

 _"Anyway,"_ Nilesy sighed. "Back in a bit." And he started away.

Rythian very nearly grabbed him by the arm, stopping just short of touching him.

"No," he blurted. "No no no, you can't—you can't leave me here—"

Smiling, Nilesy regarded him. "Can't I?" he asked.

A hot blush rose to Rythian's cheeks. "I—I mean—it's not like—I just—"

"You'll be fine, darling," Nilesy told him, and planted a quick kiss on his respirator. Rythian locked up, on the verge of spontaneously combusting, and Nilesy drifted off, touching Lomadia's arm as he went by. He slipped into Panda's room and closed the door behind him.

There was the distinctive sound of a body being slammed against the door.

"What—um," Rythian managed, his voice squeaking.

"He does that," Lomadia said fondly. "It's okay."

"To—to everyone, or. . . ?"

"Oh, you mean _Nilesy,"_ she said. "Yes. Well, most people. Not Zylus, or at least not anymore."

"You can tell him to quit. He'll shulk for a couple of daysh, but that'sh about it."

From Panda's room, there was a loud _thunk_ and then a softer _whumwhumwhum_ noise—very much like, Rythian thought, the sound a knife would make if it had been thrown with considerable force into the wall. Panda's voice followed after it, indistinct but clearly furious.

The other two had also turned to look at the door, Lomadia by swiveling her head all the way around again.

"We were in the middle of a match," she declared quickly.

"Should probably continue that," Zylus agreed, with the same sense of urgency in his voice. He crossed to the television and turned the volume up several notches. "Rythian?"

"What? Me? What?" he said frantically, looking around in case some other Rythian was hiding behind the shelving unit.

"We're down a player," said Lomadia. "You can take over for Panda."

"Bad phrashing," Zylus muttered at her, warning.

"I— _me?"_ Rythian asked again, pointing to himself.

"Not if you don't want to," Zylus assured him hastily. "Jusht sheemsh, y'know, polite to ashk. If you want. It'sh fine if you don't. No pressure. You've had a . . . really bad night."

"I really . . . I mean I probably shouldn't even touch the—the thingies, controller thingies." He gestured. He had chosen to ignore Zylus's comment about how bad his night had been. It was much nicer to just be awkward and nervous and pretend that this was all fine and normal.

"If you can use a phone, you can use a controller," said Lomadia.

"Well—but—" He pulled up short, peering at her. "Hang on, how do you know I can—"

"He must've been texting _someone,"_ said Lomadia. She shrugged her wings and returned to her spot on the back of the couch, her talons clutching at the upholstery. Zylus handed her a controller and settled into his armchair.

"I don't . . . know how to play," Rythian said, although there was some aching part of him that desperately wanted to do away with all his excuses and throw himself headlong into this bizarre Twilight Zone of a reality.

"That'sh fine, neither doesh Nileshy," Zylus said. "Hit lotsh of buttonsh, you'll figure it out."

Rythian hesitated a moment longer, then picked his way over to the couch and perched on the very edge of it. He took the rubber gloves from his pocket and pulled them on, though they stuck to his sweating hands. Apprehensive, he picked up the three-pronged controller from the floor. When no spark leapt from his fingers to fry the whole system, he turned the controller in his hands and peered at it.

"What does anything do?" he asked.

"Left shtick movesh," Zylus said, "X or Y to jump, everything elshe hitsh. You'll get the hang of it."

Rythian turned his eyes to the television.

"Which one am I?" he asked.

"The little blue one," Lomadia said. "Bottom right corner. If you fall off, you die."

"Right," said Rythian.

"I'll kick your assh lasht," Zylus promised.

* * *

 

Half an hour and six rounds later, Nilesy emerged from Panda's room, settling the mask back on his face.

"Is he all right?" Lomadia asked, her fingers still clicking the buttons with expert precision. Rythian had run out of lives some time ago, and had set his controller on the floor. He'd been watching Lomadia and Zylus battle each other, marveling at their skill.

Nilesy dropped onto the couch and leaned back, resting his head between Lomadia's shins. He sighed.

"Probably," he said. "We'll see come morning. He needs a bit of time to sort it all out. He's . . . not exactly the president of the Rythian fanclub."

"No, really?" Zylus muttered.

Briefly, Rythian wished that he, too, could turn invisible. It was warm in the flat, and he had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, but the persistent awkwardness was making him sweat anyway.

"Cheaty little fuck!" Lomadia exclaimed, as Zylus killed her character and ended the match.

"Get good," he responded, sitting back. "Nileshy, you want in?"

"Nah," he said. "I'll just spectate. And offer helpful commentary."

"Backsheat gaming only worksh if you're actually _good_ at the game," Zylus pointed out.

"I think _kick his arse_ counts as helpful."

"Very," said Lomadia. She reached down and scratched his head, and his eyes drifted closed.

"Good to know someone appreciates my talents," he mumbled.

"Is it . . . is it okay if I, um," said Rythian, fidgeting. Zylus glanced at him.

"Opt out? Yeah, that'sh fine."

"You can pet Nilesy while I'm playing," Lomadia said.

Rythian's throat seized up, squeezing out a quiet choking noise.

"You _could_ play one-handed," Nilesy said to her.

"You could be less spoiled," she returned.

"Only if you stopped spoiling me."

"You'd sulk."

"I'd _pine,_ dear, it's different."

Zylus caught Rythian's eye and pointed to the controller at his feet. "Pressh B, it'll take you out of the game," he said.

Dutifully, Rythian reached down and, after a moment's search, poked the B button with one finger. Zylus gave him a thumbs-up. Rythian took the gloves off and stuck them back in his pocket, then wiped his sweating hands on his trousers.

"Lom, quit being gooey and shquare up," Zylus said, starting a new round of the game.

She patted Nilesy's head and returned her hand to the controller.

"I can do both," she said.

"Kick his arse, dear," Nilesy said.

Halfway through the round, Nilesy kicked his feet up onto the arm of the couch and lay down, pillowing his head on Rythian's thigh and touching his knee with two knuckles. Rythian went stiff, his heart skipping like a scratched CD. Nilesy looked up at him.

"This all right?" he asked.

"I—um—yes, it's . . . it's fine," Rythian managed.

"Oh _good,"_ said Nilesy, and nestled in, closing his eyes.

"You're shtuck with him now, mate," Zylus remarked. _"Fucking Chrisht on a bike, what the fuck?"_

"Suck it," said Lomadia, grinning, while Zylus's character went tumbling off into the blue distance and exploded.

The sounds of the game—and of Zylus and Lomadia's bickering—faded to a dull chatter as Rythian looked down at Nilesy. Now that he knew what to look for, he couldn't help but see Dish Boy behind the mask, shy and cute and finally happy. Carefully, he brushed his fingers through Nilesy's hair. It was soft as a kitten's fur and marvelously thick. Nilesy sighed and turned his head to look at the television. Rythian drew back his hand.

"That didn't mean stop," Nilesy said quietly.

After a moment's hesitation, Rythian ran his fingers through Nilesy's hair again, trailing them back across his head until he encountered the elastic strap of the mask. He tugged a lock of hair out from under the strap and combed his fingers through it, then started again.

A few minutes later, when Lomadia and Zylus were in the middle of another match, Nilesy clicked his teeth and pulled the mask off, setting it on the floor. He let his head fall back onto Rythian's leg, his eyes closed again. It struck Rythian, suddenly, just how _young_ he was—it had always been evident that Dish Boy wasn't far off from a teenager, but Nilesy had always seemed older, the disconnect going unmended even though it had been proven that the two were the same person. Carefully, Rythian ran his hand through Nilesy's hair again, unimpeded by the mask.

"Better," Nilesy remarked.

Rythian suddenly became aware of the fact that both Lomadia and Zylus were staring at him. He glanced at Nilesy, then back up at the two of them, panic scrabbling around in his ribcage.

"Wh-what?" he stammered.

"Nothing," Lomadia said quickly, clearly fighting down a smile.

"Absholutely nothing," Zylus confirmed. He then muttered to himself, _"No fucking wonder Panda'sh jealoush."_

"Zylus," Nilesy warned.

"Jusht shaying," Zylus said with a shrug. "Took you two monthsh with me."

"It's different," Nilesy said.

"Yeah? How sho?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he declared, and looked up at Rythian, and winked.

"Prick," Zylus accused.

"Nosy," he returned.

"Boys, you're both pretty," Lomadia said.

"But I'm prettier," said Zylus.

* * *

 

Four rounds later, Zylus declared he was going to bed. He shut down the gaming system, rolled the controllers up in their wires, and shuffled off, yawning. Lomadia stretched her wings and looked at the window.

"Time to go, dear?" Nilesy asked.

"Yes," she said.

He sat up, and she leaned down to kiss him. Something in Rythian's chest twisted until it snapped.

"Good hunting," Nilesy said.

"Be good," she answered.

He pressed a hand to his chest and scoffed. "Me? _Good?_ I'm shocked you'd even think of such a thing."

"You know what I meant," she said.

He kissed her again. "Yes," he said. "I'll be good."

Lomadia ruffled his hair and climbed down off the sofa. She crossed to the bay window, slid it open, and hopped off the balcony and into the night. Nilesy watched her go with dewy eyes, then keeled over backwards to rest his head on Rythian's thigh again.

"You may as well go back to playing with my hair," Nilesy said, "after I've gone to all the trouble of taking the mask off for you."

Rythian, his skin burning with something edging up on shame, combed his fingers through Nilesy's hair again. Nilesy shut his eyes and sighed, his head lolling against Rythian's thigh.

After a moment, he said, "You can ask."

Rythian swallowed, gathering his courage. "She's. . . ." he began, and shook his head. "I mean, you and her. . . ."

"Mm," said Nilesy, keeping his eyes closed. "And Panda. Though he's a bit upset with me at the moment."

 _"And—_ oh. I guess . . . fair enough."

"Yeah, it's the _and_ that always trips people up. No idea why."

"It . . . seems a little . . . complicated," Rythian said carefully.

"Sometimes," Nilesy allowed. "We've got a schedule, though. Keeps everything fair. Might have to be adjusted, depending."

"On—on what?"

Nilesy met his eyes and grinned. "You can't guess?" he inquired.

All the breath had been knocked from Rythian's body, so stricken was he at the sight of Nilesy's smile. Of its own accord, his hand cupped Nilesy's cheek, his thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. The smile drained away, and Nilesy's brows drew together.

"What?" he said.

"Do it again," Rythian breathed, his head spinning.

"Do what again?"

A hot flush rose to Rythian's cheeks. "The—um. It's just I've . . . I've never actually seen you . . . smile. Before."

Nilesy raised his eyebrows.

"Yes you have," he said. "Quite frequently, I'd think."

"Okay, fair enough, but not . . . with your—your whole . . . face," he said.

 _"Ah,"_ Nilesy said sagely. "Well I can't just do it on command. You've got to say something worth smiling at."

"Um?" said Rythian, while his thoughts scattered into static. "It's . . . um . . . you—your . . . um. . . ."

"Yeah?" Nilesy prompted, clearly fighting down a smile already. Rythian's face burned.

"I'm not smooth," Rythian said miserably.

Nilesy burst out laughing, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Oh, _God,_ you're not wrong," he gasped, and shook his head, grinning.

Rythian touched the corner of his mouth with his thumb again, and Nilesy's eyes fell closed.

"It worked, though," Rythian remarked, spellbound.

"Mm," said Nilesy, his breathing slowing and deepening, his head heavy on Rythian's thigh.

For a long moment, neither one of them moved, and Rythian was certain that time itself had stopped.

Nilesy turned his head and gently pressed his lips to the pad of Rythian's thumb. The contact sent a flood of warmth coursing up his arm and into his chest, suffusing his whole body. His breath caught, and Nilesy looked up at him, his face serious. Rythian's heart skipped a beat, and the warmth cranked up to a full-on heat.

Slowly, Nilesy kissed Rythian's hand again, this time at the base of his thumb; and then on the heel of his hand, and then the large vein in his wrist, each kiss slow and deliberate and perfectly gentle, each making another wave of heat bloom under Rythian's skin. His lips found one of Rythian multitudinous scars and lingered there, and Rythian's resolve came apart like tissue paper in the pouring rain.

He pulled his respirator off his head, took Nilesy's face in both hands, and kissed him. Nilesy sucked in a quick breath and put a hand on the back of Rythian's head, presumably to hold himself up. He flowed with Rythian's rhythm, utterly pliant, his lips soft and his mouth sweet and his breath hot.

When Rythian came up for air, his heart pounding fit to burst, his breath coming short, Nilesy let his head fall back onto Rythian's thigh, his eyes closed, smiling deliriously.

"I've been waiting six fucking months to do that," he admitted, slurring slightly.

"Six. . . ?" Rythian said, his brain full of so much static and warmth that he was having trouble stringing two thoughts together.

His lungs were also starting to become full of static, so he fumbled his respirator back on, his hands suddenly somehow clumsy.

"Mm," said Nilesy. He stretched and shifted his position, leaving his eyes closed. "It was raining. There were all these little sparks in your hair, like glitter, and you'd just fixed your respirator and you were breathing properly for the first time in weeks. First time you held the bin open. It was very endearing."

"Oh," said Rythian, at a loss.

"I would've offered you a job sooner, but I could never _find_ you," Nilesy went on.

"And when you did, you . . . tried to kill me?"

Nilesy cracked an eye open. "Drown," he corrected. "And I thought we were past that."

"Sorry, I'm just having trouble understanding your choices."

He shrugged, and sighed, and the euphoria faded from his face. The other eye came open, but he did not look at Rythian. He folded his hands on his stomach.

"I was angry," he admitted. "I was . . . hurt."

"And . . . because of this, you decided . . . you wanted me dead?"

Nilesy laughed. "No, God no, I just wanted to drown you."

Rythian considered this for a few moments.

"That doesn't make any sense," he said.

"Doesn't it?" Nilesy asked. "'Cause from where I'm lying, it seems to have worked out all right."

"It—but it _wouldn't_ have, if—if Nano and—if I hadn't been rescued," Rythian said. The ache came again, sharp and hollow, draining the warmth from him.

Nilesy shrugged. "Plans change. You've just got to do the best you can with what you've got."

"Right. Sorry, this might be a stupid question, but . . . have you by any chance tried to kill your _other_ teammates?"

"No," said Nilesy, "why d'you ask?"

"I was wondering if it was just me who was crazy," he muttered.

"Oh, no, you haven't got to worry about that." He met Rythian's eyes and grinned. "We're all mad here."

"Some more than others?" he said faintly.

Nilesy's smile went sharp around the edges.

"On that note," he said. He lifted an arm and pointed along the couch to the wooden shelves by the door. "On that shelf there's a little mason jar with _Crazy Fund_ written on it. Every time you call me crazy—or any variation thereof—you put a fiver in the jar, and when it fills up, we donate it to the nearest mental health charity."

"O . . . kay," said Rythian. The image of Panda, knives in hand, flicked across his memory. "What if it's someone who isn't you?"

Nilesy's eyes narrowed. "Then it's a tenner," he said darkly. The skin on Rythian's leg made a concerted attempt to crawl away from him.

"Right," said Rythian. "Got it."

Nilesy draped his extended arm back over Rythian's legs and let his eyes drift closed again.

"S'pose you'll be wanting to sleep at some point," he said.

Again, the image of the gleaming, curved blades, jittering in clenched fists, flashed to the forefront of Rythian's mind.

"Maybe not . . . soon," he said.

"Damn," said Nilesy, and yawned. "That case, d'you mind if I just pass out on you?"

"I—no," said Rythian, thrown for a loop.

 _"Ex-_ cellent," Nilesy sighed. He adjusted his position again, wriggling into a more comfortable spot on the couch. "Hate sleeping alone."

A series of very, _very_ bad ideas flashed up in Rythian's head, and he quashed them as quickly as he could, hoping they wouldn't gain traction.

"O-oh?" he said.

A little smile played over Nilesy's lips, and he idly rubbed Rythian's thigh with his thumb.

"Easy there, cowboy," he said dryly. Rythian flushed again and buttoned his lip.

Long minutes passed, and Nilesy dropped off to sleep. Rythian was tempted to start petting his hair again, but he was wary of waking him, and so kept his hands to himself.

Within an hour, Rythian's leg had gone to sleep, his back was cramping, and his butt had gone completely numb. His eyes were starting to itch, and he kept yawning. Something was growing in the back of his mind, a storm gaining momentum, threatening to shatter this strange and fragile peace and drag him back into nauseous horror. He attempted a careful fidget, doing his damnedest not to wake Nilesy up.

He failed.

"Mmr?" said Nilesy, opening bleary eyes and blinking slowly.

"Nothing, it's fine, go back to sleep," said Rythian hurriedly.

Nilesy huffed out a breath and stretched languorously.

"Nah," he said, with significantly more clarity in his voice. "I've probably gone and put your leg to sleep. Rest of you should get to join it."

"That . . . would be nice," he admitted.

"Mm. You can stay in my room."

Rythian's heart skipped a beat. Very suddenly, he wasn't tired at all.

"I—really?" he said, his voice squeaking.

"'F course. I've slept on this couch before. It won't kill me."

"Oh," said Rythian. "R-right."

To his chagrin, Nilesy smirked at him, eyes alight.

"Go the fuck to sleep, ya thirsty twit," he said affectionately.

 


	23. Chapter 22

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano was eating breakfast when Lalna came out of their sleep cycle, shuffling from their room and shrugging on a clean lab coat. The television was playing, tuned to the morning news channel but showing only adverts.

"Morning," Nano said. "Did you stay up late last night, then?"

Lalna shook their head. They walked over to the couch and stopped.

"Something wrong?" Nano asked, frowning. Lalna hadn't been well—hadn't been _at all_ well, in fact, although she hadn't let that on to Rythian—and this stop-and-stare thing was something they had been doing frequently.

Another thing they'd been doing frequently was not answering questions.

"Lalna?" she prompted.

They stood for another ten seconds before they asked, "Where is Rythian?"

Nano's heart dropped into her boots. She abandoned her breakfast, appetite lost, and hurried over to the sofa. Sure enough, it was vacant. Lalna was touching the fabric gently, as though they could pick Rythian out from between the threads.

"Did he—leave?" Nano asked. On the TV, the morning news's intro music played, annoyingly triumphant.

"Yes," said Lalna. Their eyes dimmed for a moment, and then they spoke in Rythian's crackly, recorded voice.

_"Zoey's um . . . invited me out for drinks. With her and Fiona. Just a friends kind of thing. Um. So that's—where I'm going."_

The news anchor had started speaking, her voice low and serious.

"Oh, well—I guess that's all right," said Nano. "Maybe he's . . . staying with them? I'll text him, it'll be—"

And then what the anchor was saying sank into her brain.

 _"—seventeen are dead in an unprecedented attack on the locally owned bar,_ _ Joule's. _ _At least thirty other people were injured, including one of YogLabs' own Powered Individual Division field agents. Despite this, YogLabs is claiming full responsibility for the incident, declaring it a 'training exercise.' According to a YogLabs spokesperson, the bar was a hive of illegal Powered activity, including drug dealing, prostitution, black-market Power trade, and gang activity. They have taken the wounded into custody for medical care and processing—"_

Nano stared at the television, agape, her mind buzzing.

 _"What?"_ she whispered.

Lalna's eyes had gone bright white. Something in them was emitting a high whine.

"Rythian was there," they said. "Rythian was there. He was there. He was—"

"Oh, Christ, and Zoey and Fiona—oh God, this isn't—this can't—"

_"...Be warned, the images you are about to see are extremely graphic. Children and those of a sensitive disposition are advised to look away."_

"This can't be happening," Nano said, her lips gone numb. Her hands were shaking.

The television switched to a view of the security feed at _Joule's._ The bar was busy and dim. Zoey's bright red hair was clearly visible, nodding and bobbing at a booth.

The door blew in. A laser shot exploded against the wall. Someone screamed.

Lalna strode in, wearing nothing but their titanium exoskeleton, eyes red, lasers firing.

"What the _fuck?"_ Nano cried, her voice cracking, taking a startled step back from the TV.

On the television, Lalna fired into the crowd, killing and maiming. Blood spattered the walls, bodies slumped to the floor. Those who tried to run had their legs blown off at the knees.

"That is not me," Lalna said, their voice heavy with horror. They backed away from the television, shaking their head. "That is _not me. That is not me!"_

"Lalna—" Nano began, her voice thin and shaking.

Zoey scrambled out from under a table. She raised her hand at Lalna, a light like the sun blooming in her palm, yelled something unintelligible under the noise.

The TV-Lalna fired into her palm without a moment's hesitation. The shot tore down her arm, vaporizing bone and shredding flesh away all the way up to her biceps. She crumpled to the floor. Nano clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up.

 _"That is-is-is no_ ~~ _ooo_~~ _ot me!"_ Lalna cried, flanging and skipping and buzzing with distress. There was an escalating whine as their MALaRs primed, and to Nano's horror, they pressed a hand to their chest, just at the base of their throat.

"Lalna!" she cried, turning her back to the television and stretching out her hands towards them. "Lalna, I believe you. I _believe_ you! It's not you, it _can't_ be you. You were here, I know you were. I _believe_ you, Lalna, it's all right. It's all right."

"It's no-no-no _oo_ t," they protested, shaking their head. Smoking was curling out from under their hand. "They are ~~dead~~ , they a _aaa_ are dead—"

"Lalna, listen to me," Nano said urgently, making her way over to them with slow and careful steps, keeping her hands outstretched, keeping her eyes on Lalna's face. "This isn't your fault. I know it's horrible, I know it's hard, but right now, I need you to turn the rifles off, Lalna. Can you do that for me? It's okay to be upset, but I _need_ you to turn the rifles off."

They shook their head, their eyes pure white and flickering.

"I—I—I—" they stammered, their voice skipping like a scratched CD. "No. He ma-ma-made me _eee,_ he ~~made~~ me, I don't want—I do _ooo_ on't want—no ~~oo~~ ot again—no ~~no~~ no n _nnn_ o—"

Nano took their wrist in her hand. It was hot enough to burn her fingers, but she did not let go.

"Lalna," she said, choked up and shaking. "I need you to turn the rifles _off._ Please. That's all I need. Just that, right now. I need you to focus on turning the rifles off. Please, Lalna."

They stood there, vibrating with fear and distress, smoke still curling from under their hand, the fabric of their shirt smoldering with the heat.

The ear-tickling whine wound down, and the arm under Nano's hand cooled slowly.

"Thank you," Nano said, effusive. "That's very good, Lalna, thank you. You're doing really well. Can you walk to your room with me?"

They shook their head, movements jerky and sporadic.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Okay, that's fine. You're doing really well, Lalna. I'm right here, okay? I'm right here. Can you move your hand away from your chest? I can help you if you need me to."

_"Again, breaking news: seventeen are dead in—"_

Lalna's MALaRs spun up again, singeing Nano's fingertips. She glared over her shoulder at the television, heart pounding in her ears.

"Lalna, I'm going to go turn off the TV, okay?" she said, struggling to keep her voice level. "Stay here, please. Stay here and please don't move. Can you do that? Can you hold very still and not do anything while I go turn the TV off?"

_"YogLabs has claimed responsibility for the incident, stating that—"_

Mechanically, Lalna nodded. Nano squeezed their wrist and hurried over to the television. It took her three tries to get her finger on the button that would turn it off, and she briefly cursed Rythian for breaking the remote last week.

The thought of Rythian made her heart plummet again, and she was unsteady as she made her way back over to Lalna. She held out her hands to them, shaking where she stood.

"Do you think you can give me your hands?" she asked softly. "Can I hold your hands, Lalna?"

They did not move, did not answer.

"It'd really help me," she said. "To be able to hold onto you. I'm really scared, Lalna. I'm scared and confused and worried. Can I please hold your hands? I think it would help me a lot."

Slowly, every movement rusted and sporadic, Lalna put their fingertips on Nano's hands. Their palms were nearly red-hot from the prolonged priming of the laser rifles, but they were cooling rapidly. Nano closed her hands on Lalna's fingers and squeezed gently.

"Thank you," she said. There were tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat and she felt like she was going to be sick, but there was also a vast relief in getting Lalna to take the gun from their head.

The two of them stood there for more than a minute, just holding onto each other. Lalna's eyes remained white and flickering, and something in them was still whining away.

"I want to help, Lalna," Nano said eventually. "I know you're scared. I want to help. Please tell me what to do to help you."

So quietly she could barely hear them, they asked, "Where is Ry-y-ythian?"

"We'll find out," she said. "Let's do that right now. I can text him. Or you can, if you want to. He's got his phone, right?"

They nodded once, stiffly.

"Do you want me to do it?" she asked.

Another stiff nod.

"Okay. I'm going to let go with one hand now, Lalna. Just to get my phone out and text Rythian. Is that all right?"

A third nod. Nano let go of their fingers and dug her phone out of her pocket. Hand shaking, she tapped out a quick message to Rythian.

 

_Saw about joules. Please tell me your ok_

 

She waited in breathless silence. With every passing moment, her insides got sicker and her heart ached more. Lalna started shaking. Nano sent another text.

 

_Rythian please answer. Please god tell me your not hurt._

 

Another minute passed in silence.

"He is n _nnn_ ot going to an-an-answer," Lalna said quietly. The MALaR in their free hand started priming again.

"No, let me—let me just call him," she said, finding it difficult to speak. "It's hard to—with the phone, and he's not used to it—maybe he just didn't hear it. I'll call him, it's—it's going to be okay, Lalna."

It was all she could do to keep her hand steady enough to make the call. She put the phone on speaker. It rang three times, and then picked up with a click. Nano's heart leapt, then immediately crashed back down again.

 _"Is it—okay, right,"_ came Rythian's voice through the speaker, nervous and attenuated. _"Um. Hi. I am Rythian, annnnd I'm not actually here. Um—leave a message? ...Is that good? Is—oh, shit, I left it—"_

There was a beep, and silence. With trembling fingers, she hung up before she left more than a few seconds of nothing on the voicemail. Lalna's MALaR was glowing hotter and hotter, and Nano stuffed her phone back in her pocket so she could take their hand again.

"He might—he might just—have his phone off," Nano said. Her voice was shaking, tears welling in her eyes yet again. "Or—or it got broken, or something. He's okay. He's—he's got to be okay, I mean, I didn't even see him on the—on the video, he might not even have been—"

"He ~~was~~ ," Lalna said.

Nano clenched her jaw and shut her eyes, trying to force herself to breathe normally.

"Okay," she said. "Why don't we—why don't we ask Fiona? We can check on Zoey, too, and make sure she's—she's. . . . Maybe they'll know something, or—or _something,_ and—and we can make sure they're okay too—"

Lalna shook their head. "No," they said.

"Lalna, please, this—it's _something,_ okay, I can't just—just sit here doing _nothing,_ not when Zoey's hurt and Rythian's—Rythian's missing, I can't—"

"They will thi-think it waszs me _ee_ ," said Lalna.

Nano stood in silence, stunned and sick.

"N-no, I don't . . . I don't think they would, Lalna, I'm—I'm sure they'd understand."

" ~~No~~ ," Lalna said again.

"Lalna, listen, please just— _please,_ just—"

With a sudden and loud _click,_ Lalna went completely dark, and all their whirring and whining wound down into silence. Nano cried out in surprise, yanking her hands back from them. They did not move, frozen in place, silent as a statue. She stared at them for a long moment, heart thundering in her ears, breath coming short and thready.

"Lalna?" she whispered.

They did not respond. Nano put a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. She backed away until she ran into the back of the couch and then sank down, pulling her knees up to her chest.

And she wept, because she didn't know what else to do.

* * *

 

 _In the event of a systems crash, contact Dr. Xephos IMMEDIATELY. Do not attempt to reboot the L41 unit. Do not move, touch, or otherwise disturb the L41 unit. If applicable, file an incident report. If Dr. Xephos is not available, the unit should reboot on its own in 6-12 hours; if it does not, do_ **_not_ ** _assume that a fatal error has occurred and the L41 unit is unsalvageable. Continue attempting to contact Dr. Xephos, and continue to leave the unit undisturbed._

 _Possible symptoms of a systems crash include, but are not limited to: freezing of the head, body, or limbs; sudden loss of power to Emotional Indicator Screens (EIS); loss of vocal processing capabilities (n.b. not to be confused with_ _ vocal processor overload _ _, described in_ **_Section 18.2: Signs of Distress_ ** _); serial repetition of phrases or motions; and unresponsiveness. These errors may occur separately or in combination, but any one of them may be indicative of a serious or impending system failure. Be sure to carefully monitor to the L41 unit, especially during times of high stress, to ensure that any systems crash that does occur does not result in lasting damage to the unit, e.g. from toppling._

It was only the second time Nano had scrolled to that particular part of the hundred-and-forty-page instructional manual she had been provided with prior to meeting Lalna. The first time around, it had made little impact, as dull and inconsequential as the other two thousand paragraphs.

Now, she was reading it over and over like it was scripture.

She had not contacted Xephos, despite the manual's insistence that she should do so. Something was rotten in the state of YogLabs, and she was absolutely convinced that it was Xephos's fault. Between the abrupt and worrying change in Lalna's behavior after their latest _training exercise_ (and oh, God, did that phrase ever make her skin crawl now) and YogLabs taking full responsibility—full _credit—_ for the massacre at _Joule's,_ she wouldn't have trusted Xephos to tie his own shoes without causing something horrible to happen.

Instead, she'd been waiting, going on three hours now, intermittently reading the manual and trying to get in contact with someone—anyone—she could trust.

It was a very short list.

She'd called her parents first, let them know what had happened and that she was all right—better they hear it from her than see it on the news and call her up in a panic later. There hadn't been much to say, but her mother had kept her on the phone for nearly half an hour anyway, trying to find anything at all to talk about. It was exhausting, and Nano ended up making some excuse to end the conversation, with a promise that she'd call again soon.

Rythian still hadn't answered, despite the fact that she'd been sending him a message roughly every five minutes. She'd called him two more times, and two more times she'd been relegated to voicemail. She would have tried to contact Zoey or Fiona, but the only numbers listed for them on the Division website were their work numbers, and she somehow doubted they'd be in the office just now. Most of the people she knew in the Division were either in Xephos's pocket—like Pyrion—or too scared of him to ever go against his wishes, like Martyn. She barely knew anyone outside of YogLabs, due mostly to the fact that they'd kept her so busy since she'd joined up that she hadn't had time to make any friends.

She found herself wishing that there was some way to contact Lomadia.

It was a stupid idea, and she knew it, and it didn't make her want it any less. Something like this would be just the sort of confirmation Lomadia—and Nilesy, and the rest of them—would have been waiting for, the definitive _proof_ that Lalna was a weapon and nothing more. Now more than ever, Lomadia and the others would be out for blood, or at least hydraulic fluid.

They probably wouldn't be the only ones.

Most of the world didn't know that Lalna stayed with Nano—it had been one of Xephos's little security measures that had seemed comically paranoid at the time. As far as the general populace knew, Lalna was always at YogLabs, under incredibly high security and more than a few locks and keys. Nano had rolled her eyes at the idea—the deception was more than unnecessary, since the only security Lalna needed was themselves—but now she was thanking every lucky star she had that Xephos had been so jittery about Lalna's safety.

She wondered how long he'd been planning for a day just like today.

Shivering, sick to her stomach, she sent what was probably her hundredth text to Rythian that day.

 

_Please answer. Please, please answer, Rythian. I'm scared._

 

For the hundredth time, there was no reply.

* * *

 

Just before noon, Xephos called her.

 _"Tell me he's all right,"_ he said, blurting it out without preamble the moment she answered the phone. He was speaking too quickly, and his voice was shaking. _"Please, for the love of God, tell me nothing's happened to him."_

Nano found she couldn't answer, so many emotions tangled in her chest that it was impossible to speak past them—fear and anger and guilt and what might have been _relief—_ and in her silence Xephos continued talking.

 _"Nano? Nano! Can you hear me?_ _ Is Lalna all right? _ _"_

"What have you done?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

 _"What? What did you say? Has—has something happened? Good grief, I haven't even—are_ _ you _ _all right?"_

"What have you _done?"_ she repeated, her voice breaking.

There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line.

 _"Something has gone horribly wrong, Nano,"_ Xephos said quietly, and his voice was heavy with regret.

"Has it?" she snapped, as a pair of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Or was this your fucking plan all along?"

_"Nano, please calm down. No, this was not planned. This is an unmitigated disaster, and I am attempting to mitigate it."_

"That's not what they said on the news."

 _"Astonishingly, I am not in charge of YogLabs' public relations department, and that was not my decision. You will have to take it up with Hulmes. What I_ _ am _ _in charge of is Lalna, and so I will ask again: is he all right?"_

She had to swallow down the massive lump in her throat before she could answer.

"They've . . . shut down," she said.

 _"For God's sake,"_ Xephos said. _"When?"_

She hesitated. "Four hours ago," she admitted.

Xephos sighed, making the phone crackle. _"Right. I wish you had called me four hours ago, but given your . . . current disposition, I can understand why you didn't. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Please do_ _try_ _not to tear my head off when I arrive, I doubt it would grow back."_

"How did this _happen?"_ she demanded.

 _"I don't know,"_ Xephos said darkly, _"but I am going to find out. See you in twenty minutes, Nano. Hang tight."_

He hung up, leaving her with the phone pressed to her ear and tears rolling down her cheeks, the knot of emotions in her chest even more tangled than before. She stayed curled up against the back of the couch until Xephos arrived, and she had to haul herself to her feet to let him in. She'd been sitting still so long that all her joints had frozen, and she was weak and dizzy from having hardly eaten all morning.

The first thing Xephos did when she opened the door for him was sweep her into a hug.

"I am so incredibly sorry," he said, squeezing her.

"Let _go_ of me," she said, shoving him in the chest. He held her for a moment longer before releasing her and bustling over to Lalna.

"What caused it?" he asked, checking them over like an art collector examining a statue for flaws.

"Probably seeing themselves committing mass-murder on the fucking morning news," Nano spat. _"What the fuck happened?"_

"I don't know why you keep asking me that, I'm as much in the dark as you are," he said. "Have you got a hex screwdriver? I've got to get the back of his head off to reboot him."

"No," she said. "You're not going to do a goddamn _thing_ to Lalna until you've told me what the _fuck_ happened last night."

Xephos sighed and stepped back from Lalna, folding his arms.

"I don't _know,_ Nano," he said. "How many more times am I going to have to tell you? _I don't know what happened._ We've had bugs in the system before, but _nothing_ of this level. It's horrific and honestly terrifying, and if you would _please_ allow me to do my _job_ and care for my robot, we can begin to gain some insight into the matter."

"Lalna doesn't know anything about it."

"Quite frankly, Dr. Sounds, that is impossible. Unless this . . . _travesty_ is the result of unbelievably clever and absolutely intentional _sabotage,_ Lalna will have records of the incident."

"That _wasn't Lalna,"_ Nano snapped. "They were here, all night. They never left. It couldn't have been them, it was—it was something else, something horrible—"

Xephos's eyes narrowed, and he went very still.

"Are you suggesting, Dr. Sounds," he said quietly, "that someone has made a _copy_ of my half- _trillion_ dollar robot, which took fifteen _years_ to develop, and has set it loose upon the unsuspecting populace for nefarious and unknown reasons?"

She met his eyes and clenched her fists. "Are you suggesting that _Lalna_ has suddenly decided to start killing people in their sleep?"

They watched each other for a long moment. Nano's heart pounded in her ears, and she was shaking. Finally, Xephos looked away with a shrug.

"I suppose one is as likely as the other. Is there anything _else_ you wanted to say, or am I allowed to get on with my job?"

"What happened during their training exercise?" she demanded, before she could stop herself.

Xephos, to her surprise, looked away guiltily. "Was it so obvious?"

"Yes," she said, gritting her teeth.

He took quite a long time to answer, his jaw working and his eyes averted.

"He failed," he said quietly. "Utterly and miserably. He wasn't _injured,_ thank God, but . . . I think he took it rather hard, you know. I set him a challenge that was too difficult and he—well, you know how he reacts to failure."

"Yeah," said Nano, defiant, "and it's _nothing_ like what they've been going through the past three days."

"And what _has_ he been going through these past three days?" he asked. "I haven't received a single report. I thought perhaps he needed time to himself to recover, but it seems I misinterpreted."

He sighed, hanging his head and letting his shoulders slump. When next he spoke, his voice was thin and incredibly tired.

"I am . . . prepared to take full responsibility for—for _whatever_ has happened to Lalna," he said softly. "Whether it be a malfunction or a malicious interloper. But I would like to know what, precisely, I am taking responsibility _for._ So may I, _please,_ boot him up and speak with him? The sooner I know what's wrong, the sooner I can fix it. I want to _help_ him, Nano. In the only way I can."

She chewed the inside of her cheek, her lip curling, her fists clenched.

"Fine," she said, and went to get him a screwdriver.

 


	24. Chapter 23

 

By the time Xephos got Lalna's head open, Nano had sat herself at the dining room table and pulled her knees up to her chest. She was still feeling too ill to eat, and the abandoned breakfast at her elbow wasn't helping matters. She watched as Xephos took the titanium back-plate off of Lalna's head, watched him lay it almost reverently on the computer desk behind them. He pressed something at the base of their neck, held it in for three seconds, and let go.

With a climbing whirr, Lalna started to come back to life. Xephos took out his tablet and a cord and plugged it into the back of Lalna's head.

"What're you doing?" Nano demanded, sitting forward, fists clenched.

"It will take Lalna at _least_ twenty minutes to reboot fully," Xephos said, tapping at his tablet. "I would prefer that he doesn't crash again _instantly_ upon doing so, so I'm suppressing some of his systems temporarily. Interpersonal software, personality matrix, weapons capabilities—that sort of thing. I can reinstate them at any time, but for now I should think he'd be better off not feeling much. And certainly not attempting to put more holes in himself, good God."

Nano's eyes flicked to the circular hole burned into the front of Lalna's shirt. She shivered and pulled her feet back up into the chair. Xephos continued tapping at his tablet, focused and grim. Occasionally he would swipe his thumb over the fingerprint scanner at the bottom of the plastic frame. Lalna continued to whirr and tick, although they were still completely unmoving, and their eyes remained dark.

After a few minutes, Xephos glanced up at her and smiled tightly.

"This is going to take some time," he said, his voice gentle. "You wouldn't mind starting some tea, would you? I find that in times of crisis, holding to small comforts is somewhat helpful in keeping a clear head. Besides, having something to do keeps one from thinking too much. It might make this a tad more bearable."

"What would _you_ know about times of crisis?" she asked, aiming for anger and falling short.

He turned his eyes back to the tablet and tapped it a few times.

"More than you might imagine, Dr. Sounds," he murmured, almost as though he was speaking to himself. "Quite a bit more, yes."

She hesitated, torn between trying to maintain her anger and allowing herself to believe him.

"Tea, then," she said.

"Thank you," said Xephos, without looking up.

She went off to the kitchen, trying not to think about anything at all.

* * *

 

When the tea was ready, she brought out a cup for both herself and Xephos. He was perched on the computer desk behind Lalna, still staring at his tablet but clearly not doing anything with it. Lalna's eyes were still dark, but there was a sense of _aliveness_ about them that hadn't been there before. Xephos accepted the cup of tea with a tight smile, and Nano settled into the rolling chair at the desk, wrapping her hands around her own cup and not so much as pretending to take a sip.

"What was it?" she asked, when the silence had stretched long between them.

"What was what?" he said, not looking up.

"You said you knew more about . . . crises, or whatever, than I'd think. So what was it?"

His jaw tightened, and his throat worked for a moment. When he answered, his voice was thin and taut.

"Shockingly," he said, "I would prefer not to talk about it, if that's all the same to you. You may not have noticed, but this entire affair is _rather_ distressing for me, and I would very much prefer not to go digging up old traumas in the midst of it."

She looked down at the cup in her hands, her face burning.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

With a sigh, he replied, "It's quite all right, Nano. I understand the impulse."

The lull that followed was filled by the sounds of Lalna starting up, whirring and ticking and whining. Dimly, their eyes started to glow.

"How much longer until they wake up?" Nano asked.

"Let's see . . . approximately five minutes," Xephos said, prodding his tablet. "Nano, before we begin. Is there anything—anything at all—that I should know about Lalna's behavior these past three days? You mentioned that he was not behaving normally. Could you explain how he _was_ behaving?"

"Why does it matter?" she said, her hackles raised.

Xephos raised a hand in a placating gesture. "It will help me choose the right questions to ask," he said gently. "I want this to be as painless as possible for everyone involved. Any information is useful."

"You can't just—look it up on your little tablet?" she asked, gesturing to the device in question.

"I could," he allowed, "but I dislike rifling through Lalna's brains without his consent, especially during startup, not to mention how long it would take. He's incapable of keeping a change log while he boots, and it feels rather . . . discourteous, to poke about when he can't recall that any poking has even been done."

"Which doesn't extend to turning off bits of his— _their_ brain?" Nano said, flinching as the wrong pronoun slipped out. A little smile scuttled across Xephos's lips, just a flicker of expression that nonetheless set Nano's teeth on edge.

"I said I _disliked_ it, Nano," he said. "That doesn't prevent me from doing it when necessary. I'm only trying to do what's best for Lalna."

She ground her teeth, but managed to keep from spitting out any sharp retorts. Now was not the time.

"How much longer?" she asked.

"A little less than four minutes," he said. "Now, really, Nano. What's been happening these past three days?"

"They. . . ." she began, and broke off with a sigh. She stared down at her reflection in her cup of tea, because it was easier than looking at Xephos. "If I hadn't just seen them _actually_ shut down, I would've said they just . . . _shut down._ They were . . . they weren't talking much, they weren't answering questions or making conversation or—or anything. They spent a lot of time just . . . sitting or standing in one place, not doing anything, just sort of—I guess, thinking? And they were . . . I think they were—were _angry._ They never _did_ anything, they weren't threatening or anything like that, but . . . I mean it's sort of hard for them to hide how they feel, isn't it? And it wasn't getting better and they wouldn't tell me what was wrong, and it just . . . and now _this. . . ."_

Xephos took a slow breath and sighed it out again.

"Right," he said. "That . . . _could_ be any number of things. Lalna is a very complex system, and his reactions are an amalgamation of literally _thousands_ of different programs' outputs, but. . . ."

She looked up. "But?" she said.

He took some time to answer, frowning at his tablet.

"But, _prima facie,_ it sounds to me as though he may have been compromised," he said at last.

 _"Compromised?_ You think someone's _hacked_ them?"

"It's too early to say for certain, but the sort of antisocial behavior you're describing is _quite_ atypical for Lalna, as I'm sure you know. Even a clever hack would likely disrupt untargeted portions of his programming, including-but-not-limited-to his personality matrix."

"How could someone have possibly _hacked Lalna?"_ Nano asked.

"Well," said Xephos, sitting back and casting his eyes to the ceiling. "As I see it, there are two options. Either someone in Section L is attempting to undermine our entire operation, or Rythian is a good deal cleverer than I've given him credit for. That is, _assuming_ Lalna has been compromised, which is by no means a certain thing."

Nano's jaw had dropped. _"Rythian?"_ she croaked, unable to believe her ears.

"You must admit, the evidence is rather damning," Xephos said. "He is relatively new to the Division. Eager to join up after meeting Lalna. Refused to move out of your home despite having his own accommodations provided by the Division. No personal history to speak of, other than a long record of run-ins with the law, _including_ being unregistered for nearly his entire life. A known association with Nilesy."

"A known—he was _kidnapped_ and _tortured!_ And then—and _then—_ lured off and beaten to within an inch of his fucking life! That's not an association, that's—that's just being _targeted!"_

"Are you _sure_ that's precisely what happened?" Xephos asked, regarding her with one eyebrow raised. The light of his tablet screen was reflecting off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. "Are you absolutely _positive_ that Rythian has been honest with you? It seems rather . . . _concerning,_ does it not, that he's suddenly nowhere to be found? That, despite being on site at the time of the incident, he is now missing in action, all communications devices disabled? That—"

"How do you know that?" she interrupted.

"Because, shockingly, you aren't the only one trying to find him," Xephos answered testily. "I find it somewhat worrisome that, despite one of his own _friends_ being severely injured, he has now vanished off the face of the earth. It is rather incriminating, Nano, you must admit."

"No I damn well _mustn't,"_ she snapped, hands tightening on her tea cup. "There's no _way_ he could have done _anything_ to Lalna, he couldn't so much as _touch_ them—"

"Curious," said Xephos, "considering he was more than capable of handling a phone."

Nano clenched her jaw. "He didn't do this," she said, her voice shaking with suppressed rage, "and neither did Lalna."

Sighing, Xephos shook his head. "I sincerely wish I could believe that, Nano," he said regretfully. "But I'm afraid that evidence suggests otherwise."

"If it was anyone, it was one of your Section L madmen," she said.

"Believe me, Nano, I shall be investigating the entire department _most_ thoroughly," he said.

She was about to respond when there was a loud, pleasant _ding,_ and Lalna's eyes brightened to a cool and professional blue. Their hands fell to their sides and they straightened up to a military posture.

"Ah," said Xephos, turning his full attention to them. "Good morning. Please identify yourself?"

"I am L41-NA," Lalna said, their voice devoid of all emotion.

"Very good," said Xephos, prodding something on his tablet's screen. "Systems report?"

"Power core is at eighty percent charge. MALaRs have incurred minor damage from overpriming. Fine motor cortex has experienced a nonfatal short and is functioning at minimum capacity. Interpersonal software is offline. Personality matrix is offline. Empathy drivers are offline. Morality database is offline. Weapons systems are offline. Flight systems are offline. All other systems are optimal."

"Good, good," Xephos said. "Do you know where you are?"

Lalna was quiet for a moment while something inside them ticked and clicked and creaked.

"I am in the home-laboratory complex of Dr. Nano Sounds," they said.

"Yes, good," said Xephos. "Tell me the date, please?"

"May eighth, two-thousand and thirty-five," they said.

 _"Ex_ -cellent," said Xephos. He folded his hands on his tablet and looked up at Lalna. "Can you please describe to me the circumstances of this morning's systems crash?"

Lalna stood perfectly still, clicking and whirring.

"No result," they said.

 _"Ah,"_ said Xephos. "Could you, then, describe to me the circumstances of your latest voluntary shut-down?"

"Empathy drivers were overtaxed. Hazard detection reported imminent threat to the unit. Shut-down was chosen as an optimal solution."

 _"Imminent threat?"_ Xephos asked mildly, his eyes fixed on Nano. She shrank back, fear making her jaw seize up. "Could you elaborate, please?"

"Interpersonal software requested self-destruction utilizing the MALaR instruments," Lalna said, their voice flat and monotone. "Request volume was unmanageable."

"Why did you not simply shut down the interpersonal software?" Xephos asked, turning back to Lalna. Nano let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Request volume was unmanageable," they repeated.

"I _see,"_ said Xephos. "Well, at the very least we know you weren't faking it. Now. Please access your activity logs from . . . oh, let's say, ten to eleven fifty-nine p.m. last night."

Lalna ticked and whirred, and whirred at ticked. Something inside them went _crrronk._

"No result," they said.

Nano's heart skipped a beat. Xephos hissed in a slow breath through his teeth and leaned back.

"Lalna," he said, "please identify any gap in activity logs longer than ten seconds in the past week."

Again, they took some time to answer.

"May fifth, two thousand and thirty-five," they said. "Missing record from three forty-five p.m. to five fifty p.m."

"Training exercise," Xephos muttered to Nano. "He shut down then, too."

"May seventh, two thousand and thirty-five," Lalna went on. "Missing record from ten thirty p.m. to eleven fifty-nine p.m. May eighth, two thousand and thirty-five. Missing record from twelve a.m. to two twenty-two a.m. May eighth, two thousand and thirty-five. Missing record from eight oh-six a.m. to twelve forty-three p.m. End of report."

"Hell," Xephos said, his face grim. "Lalna, please retrieve all change logs from May seventh and eighth."

After a moment's pause, they said, "No result."

 _"Shit,"_ Xephos hissed, putting a hand to his head.

"What does that mean?" Nano asked, her voice shaking.

Xephos took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. "It means, quite simply, that we have no idea what happened between ten thirty last night and two thirty this morning," Xephos said.

"But—but how could they not have any record? If someone had—had gone in and deleted things from them, how—"

"As I said," Xephos said. "Lalna doesn't record change logs while he's booting. Someone could, quite easily, have altered a _vast_ portion of his code, shut him down, and then erased all record of the changes while he rebooted. There's no other reason for him to have no record of last night, unless someone had purposefully erased it. _Hell."_

"Someone—you mean someone _actually hacked them?"_ she said. Her throat was tight. Breathing was difficult.

"That is _precisely_ what I mean," Xephos said darkly. "This begs the question, Dr. Sounds: _where is Rythian?"_

"Rythian didn't _do_ this," she snapped, her voice cracking. "He _couldn't_ have."

"He is the _only_ other person with access to this laboratory," Xephos retorted. "He had the opportunity and, dare I say it, the motive. He is now missing, from which I can only conclude that he has _run._ Innocent men do not _run,_ Dr. Sounds."

"They do when _you're_ chasing them!" she blurted.

Xephos went very still. He looked over at her slowly, his expression blank. A shiver ran up Nano's spine, and both her legs twitched.

"Dr. Sounds," he said softly. "I would sincerely love to believe that Rythian is not culpable. _However,_ unless you can provide me with a better suspect—"

"He had a _physical key,"_ she interrupted, "which _you_ gave him. Who's to say someone hasn't nicked it off him? And _why_ would he go to the place he'd decided to set Lalna on? _Why_ would he even set Lalna on a Powered bar? If he's got some kind of—of vendetta against YogLabs like you're implying, why not send Lalna _there?_ It _wasn't him."_

"I note," Xephos said softly, "that you no longer seem convinced that it wasn't _Lalna."_

She lifted her chin and blinked back her tears. "It _wasn't."_

Xephos let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. "Nano, while your loyalty is . . . _inspiring,_ it does us little good to ignore the _facts._ The _facts_ are: Lalna has been compromised. Rythian is missing. YogLabs is in _extremely_ hot water with the government and the populace alike. _Someone must be to blame,_ Dr. Sounds. And I will be _damned_ if it's going to be Lalna."

Nano stared at him for a long moment, scrambling to gather her thoughts. It _couldn't_ have been Rythian, and she was sure of it—she just needed a good reason _why._

The idea dawned on her, slowly but inexorably.

"What . . . _time,"_ she hazarded, "did the whole—everything—actually _happen?"_

Xephos frowned and looked down to his tablet. He tapped at it for a moment, then scrolled a bit. His eyebrows raised.

"Apparently," he said, "just after eleven thirty."

"Lalna," Nano said quickly, looking to them with her heart fluttering in her throat. "What time did Rythian leave here last night?"

"Ten sixteen p.m.," Lalna said.

"There!" Nano cried, pointing at Lalna. "He couldn't have done it! He _couldn't_ have done it, he was already gone!"

"The deletions occurred _after_ the incident," Xephos pointed out. "And since we have no change logs, it's impossible to know when the compromising access occurred."

"But—but wouldn't it—wouldn't it be much easier to do—whatever—when Lalna was _already_ shut down after—after their training exercise?" she said, stumbling over her words in the heat of her excitement. "And— _and_ , like you said, they were acting all wrong because some—someone had been in their head, and it happened after the thing, and there's no way Rythian could've got to them between the—the exercise and when they came home because he was here and I was with him and Lal was already—already messed up when they got back, so it _had_ to've happened at YogLabs, it _had_ to have, there's nothing else that makes sense!"

Xephos's eyebrows pulled together, and he chewed the inside of his lip. Finally, he inclined his head.

"Dr. Sounds," he said, "you make a very convincing argument."

He unplugged his tablet and slipped it back into its bag. He then tugged the cord out of the back of Lalna's head and rolled it up—it, too, went into the bag.

"I shall need to conduct further investigations," he said. "On Lalna, as well as in my . . . ahahah, _department._ Clearly _someone_ has something to hide."

"You're _taking_ them?" Nano cried, her heart constricting.

"I can hardly leave him running around loose with malicious code floating about in his head," Xephos said. He picked up the back plate of Lalna's head and set it in place, then began screwing it back in. "I'll have him thoroughly debugged and look through his logs myself. See if there's something he's been made to ignore. In the mean time, I believe Section L will be undergoing a very _thorough,_ very _personal_ internal review."

The sheer venom in his voice made the nape of Nano's neck prickle. She shrank back in her chair, holding her cooling cup of tea to her chest.

"But . . . they _will_ be coming back here," she said meekly. "Right?"

Xephos took some time to answer, replacing the small titanium screws one by one.

"If he is fit to do so," he said at last, "and if he wishes to."

She was about to object, about to say _of course they'll want to,_ but the words died on her tongue. With a slow and sinking feeling, she admitted to herself that she had no idea what Lalna would want.

Or if they would even be Lalna anymore.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Xephos . . . thank you."

He nodded, finishing re-attaching the back of Lalna's head.

"It seems the least I can do. Perhaps, while I'm running my investigations, you might talk with Zoey and Fiona? I'm sure they would be glad to see you, and they may be able to shed some light on where Rythian's got off to. I should still like to find him, if for no other reason than to gain further insight on the incident."

"That . . . yeah," she said. "I think I might do that."

Xephos nodded and set the screwdriver down on the table. He put a hand on Lalna's shoulder.

"Come along, Lalna," he said gently. "Let's get you home."

He guided them to the door, and out into the street, and helped them into his company car.

Nano watched the two of them drive away, the cup of cold tea still clutched to her chest.

* * *

 

Eventually, she managed to get Fiona's cell number from Martyn.

 _"You can't ask someone else?"_ he'd said, sounding haggard and hoarse even over the phone. _"I've got a real clusterfuck—pardoning my language—on my hands here, and I'm a bit run off my feet."_

"I just want her cell number, Martyn, it'll take two seconds. Please."

 _"Right, okay,"_ he sighed. _"But I'm not really sure she'll be up for it. You've seen the news?"_

"Nothing but," said Nano. "It's not for business. I just . . . I need to know _someone's_ okay. Please?"

_"Nano, not to sound nosy, but haven't you got enough to be dealing with? Just saying."_

"Xephos is looking after Lalna," she said, her voice going hard. "Martyn, _please._ I'm asking you this as a friend. Everything's so fucked up, and I just—I need to talk to _someone,_ all right? I know you're busy, otherwise I'd be asking _you,_ but—just please, will you give me her number?"

He'd mulled it over for a moment, then sighed. _"Yeah, all right, hold up a sec. I'll text it to you, how's that?"_

"That's fine. Thank you, Martyn. Thank you so much."

_"Yeah, anytime. Take care."_

The text had come, and she'd dialed the number. It almost rang out before Fiona answered it.

 _"Hello?"_ she said. She sounded exhausted.

"Hi, um . . . it's me. Nano," said Nano. "I—I saw. On the news. Are you all right? Is—is Zoey all right?"

 _"Oh, God. Um. Yeah, we're . . . we're holding up. She's still not really, um, awake, with the . . . the painkillers, and everything. It's . . . it's not_ _ good, _ _but she'll—they said she'll recover."_

"Well, that's good to know, at least," said Nano. "Is it—d'you think it'd be okay if I, maybe, dropped by? For like a visit, or something?"

Fiona's voice went high and cagy. _"Y-yeah, I don't—I dunno about that. Um. I'll have to ask Zo, y'know, and all the hospital people, 'cause she might not be okay for visitors or anything, um. Yeah, I'll have to get back to you on that. Later on."_

Something struck through Nano's heart, sharp and cold. Her stomach twisted up and left her queasy.

"Fiona, I'm . . . I'm sorry," she said, and the lump rose back in her throat and the tears came swelling up in her eyes once again. "I'm so, so sorry about this. I don't—I know I can't do anything to fix it, but I just—God, it's awful, and if there's anything I can do to help, just—please let me know, okay?"

There was a long silence from the other end of the line.

 _"Yeah,"_ Fiona said eventually, _"okay. Are . . . are_ _you_ _okay?"_

The tears finally overflowed, trailing down her cheeks one after another. The lump in her throat was so thick and so heavy that for a moment she couldn't speak past it.

"No," she choked. "No, I'm not. I'm really, really not. I'm sorry, it's so stupid, I wasn't even _there,_ I've got no right to feel like this and I've especially got no right to be dumping it all on _you,_ God, I'm sorry, Fiona, I just—I can't—"

 _"It's okay,"_ Fiona said gently. _"Nobody's going to blame you. We're all sort of . . . really fucked up right now. I think it'd be worse if you_ _weren't._ _"_

A sob broke through her lips, and she curled up against her knees, bowing her head, hugging herself tightly.

"I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I feel like—I feel like it's _my_ fault, like I should've been watching them, I should've—I should've _known,_ I should've _done_ something—"

 _"It's probably a good thing you didn't,"_ Fiona said. _"I mean. That's . . . sort of what Zoey did. Right? So . . . I mean, it's not your fault. There isn't anything you could've done, anyway."_

She sniffled and hugged herself tighter, shaking her head. The phone was warm and moist against her ear, muggy with her own sweat.

"I just—I can't believe they would—they _couldn't_ have, I mean they _couldn't_ have, they _wouldn't,_ but . . . but. . . ."

 _"But they did,"_ Fiona said quietly.

"No," Nano blurted, and it was somewhere between a sob and a plea. "No, it _wasn't,_ it was—it was something else, it was something—Xephos said—Xephos said someone hacked into them, he said they—"

 _"So we've found them, then?"_ Fiona interrupted.

"Found. . . ? What d'you—"

She stopped, a cold and thorny apprehension curling around her stomach.

 _"News said they were missing,"_ Fiona explained. _"Said nobody'd been able to find them after . . . yeah. Xephos has been losing it all day. Where were they, anyway? What's Xeph done with them?"_

"He . . . he's taken them . . . back to YogLabs," Nano managed. She felt faint.

 _"I guess that's . . . good,"_ Fiona said. _"Look, um, Zo's sort of starting to come round again, I've got to go. Thanks for calling, Dr. Sounds. Bye."_

Before Nano could respond, Fiona had hung up on her.

Nano stayed with her forehead on her knees and the phone clutched to her ear, nervous and sick.

Just what the hell was going on here?

 


	25. Chapter 24

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Rythian woke up suddenly with a knife to his throat and a knee on his chest. Panda was crouched over him, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of Nilesy's room.

"What makes _you_ so fucking special, then?" he hissed, his voice raw.

"Wh-what?" Rythian said, while his heart pounded and his stomach churned.

"He's known you all of two months, and he's already, _Lom, Panda, d'you mind if I snog him? No reason, just feel like it might come up at some point._ I had to wait a fucking _year_ before he'd so much as _look_ at me twice. What's so fucking special about _you?"_

"I really don't think I'm the person to ask about this," he said thinly.

The knife pressed down against his throat, threatening to pierce the skin.

"I could have you in two dozen different graves by dawn," Panda snarled. _"And_ have your blood off the sheets."

"You and Lomadia must get along well," he said, his voice squeaking. He was starting to feel dizzy.

Panda leaned in and pressed the knife down even harder, drawing a line of pain into Rythian's neck. His knee was pushing right on Rythian's diaphragm, making it hard to draw breath.

"Lom was here _first,"_ he said. "She's _earned_ it. All _you've_ earned is getting to die _before_ I cut you into bits."

Rythian would have gulped, but he was concerned any such movement of his throat would leave him bleeding. Likewise, he didn't speak again, for fear that Panda would follow through on his threat.

He was, Rythian noticed, crying.

"Well?" he demanded.

"I don't know what you want," Rythian managed hoarsely.

"Beg. _Beg_ me for your stupid, worthless life."

"Please," Rythian whispered, too frightened to even consider disobeying. "Please, don't hurt me. I—I'll do anything you want, just . . . please."

"Not _good_ enough," Panda snapped.

The knife flicked in his hand, and a sharp line of pain bloomed on Rythian's collarbone. He yelped, and Panda pressed the point of the knife up under his jaw.

"Try again," he said.

Struggling to breathe, pain throbbing on his collarbone and clouding his thoughts, Rythian squeezed his eyes shut. The knife was pressing hard into the soft flesh under his tongue, and his mouth was filling up with saliva because he couldn't swallow.

 _"Please,"_ he croaked. "Please, God, I don't—I don't want to die, _I don't want to die,_ please, I'm sorry, I'll—I'll do anything, just _please—"_

"Say you're worthless," Panda ordered.

"I'm worthless," Rythian said, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

"Say you're disgusting," he pressed.

"I'm—I'm disgusting."

_"Say you'll never touch Nilesy again."_

"I will . . . never . . . touch Nilesy again," he choked.

"Two dozen graves," Panda repeated, pushing the point of the knife in harder, until Rythian was sure it was going to pierce the skin. "I'm fucking _watching_ you."

There was a whirring noise, and suddenly Panda was gone. Rythian gasped in a breath, sitting bolt-upright and pressing a hand to his collarbone. To his surprise, he found no blood—just a little slit in his shirt and a scratch on his skin.

He spent the rest of the night in the bathroom, huddled and staring at the door, wondering how deeply he would've been cut if not for his wretched, traitorous YogLabs vest.

* * *

 

He woke again in the morning to the sound of his phone buzzing. Blearily, he reached into his pocket and grabbed it.

There was a sharp _crack,_ and the acrid smell of burning plastic.

Slowly, Rythian sighed and rested his forehead on his knees.

"Fuck," he mumbled. There was a little hollow space in his chest—what if it had been Zoey, texting to say she was all right, asking where he'd gone? What if it was Nano, wondering—

On second thought, he decided that it was probably for the best that his phone was now a charred ruin.

Rythian left the still-smoking phone in his pocket and hauled himself to his feet. All his joints were aching from spending the night on the bathroom floor, and his head was splitting. As he got his bearings, he noted that the bathtub was full of clean water. He stared at it for a moment, blinking and puzzled.

"Huh," he said. "That's . . . interesting?"

He shook himself and shuffled over to the mirror. He had a look at the little cut on his collarbone. It was hardly more than a cat scratch, nearly bloodless, and the slice through his shirt and vest was thin and clean.

It must, he thought, have been a _very_ sharp knife.

Just then, he heard the bedroom door open, and his heart stopped. He flattened himself against the wall, scarcely daring to breathe, one hand outstretched towards the door. If someone was going to come dashing in after him, they were going to get a very nasty, very _fatal_ surprise. . . .

"Rythian?" Nilesy called from the bedroom, his voice muffled by the door. Rythian sagged, hanging his head and letting out a breath. He sidled over to the bathroom door and tugged it open, poking his head out.

"Um," he said, "hi."

Nilesy looked over at him and smiled. His hair was mussed, his clothes rumpled from sleeping on the couch. He had shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the bed, his tie was off, and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone.

"Ah, there you are," he said. "Sorry, probably should've knocked."

"Y-yeah," said Rythian, his head filling up with static. "Um. Why is your bathtub full of water?"

He winced. Of all the things he could've said, it _had_ to be that.

Blinking, Nilesy tipped his head to the side. "In case I need it?" he guessed.

"For. . . ?"

Nilesy raised a lazy hand. There was a sloshing noise from behind Rythian. He jumped and spun around just in time to see the water collapse back into the tub, ripples skating across its surface.

"Oh, y'know," Nilesy said mildly. "Things. Stuff. D'you mind nipping out for a bit? Only I've got _work,"_ the word dripped off his lips like a particularly bitter poison, "and I've got to get changed."

Rythian flushed. "R-right, yes, I—yes," he stammered, edging out into the room, sticking to the walls as he tried to get to the door without actually getting any closer to Nilesy. "Fair enough, I'll just—"

Clearly fighting down a smile, Nilesy watched him as he skirted around the perimeter of the tiny room.

"There's tea," he said. "Courtesy of Zylus. Help yourself to anything in the fridge."

"Is there?" Rythian squeaked. "Good, great, I'll just—"

At his point of closest approach, Nilesy caught him by the hands and planted a kiss on his respirator.

"Good morning, by the way," he murmured.

Rythian made a noise like _eeeehuehaah_ and locked up completely. Nilesy laughed at him.

"Oh, dear _God,_ you're cute," he said. He let go of Rythian's hands and stepped back. "Sorry, I'll stop shorting you out." He paused, raising his eyebrows. "Get it? Shorting—okay, yeah, not my best. _Get_ out."

Nilesy cocked a thumb at the door, and Rythian scurried out before anything worse (or better) could happen. It was with some relief that he shut the door behind himself.

"Morning," Zylus said. He was sitting at the kitchen island, poring over the morning paper and drinking a cup of tea. "Don't worry, he'sh like that. You really _can_ tell him to quit."

"Isn't it a little early for you to be poking around in other people's heads?" Rythian asked, bristling.

"Shorry," said Zylus, wincing. "It'sh reflexshive. I'll try to shtop. There'sh uh . . . there'sh tea, by the way. Plenty for you, if you want shome."

Rythian glanced around the living room, antsy.

"Where's Panda?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level. Zylus looked up at him anyway, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

"Shtill in bed," he said. "Shinshe it'sh Shaturday, he'll probably shtay that way until noon, at leasht, unlessh hish stash of shnacksh runsh out. Why?"

"No reason," said Rythian. He sidled into the kitchen, keeping one eye on Zylus as he worked out where the mugs were.

"Cabinet left of the shtove," Zylus said, pointing.

 _"Would you quit?"_ Rythian hissed, glaring at him.

"Shorry! Shorry, God, shorry, I'm trying," Zylus said, wincing again. He kept his eyes on the newspaper. He was blushing, and kept tapping the eraser of his pencil against the paper.

Grumbling to himself, Rythian picked out a mug from the back of the cabinet. There was a pot of tea on the kitchen counter, mostly full and still steaming. He poured himself a cup and then leaned his hip against the counter, wrapping his fingers around the warm mug.

"Where's Lomadia?" he asked.

"Ashleep," Zylus answered. He clicked his teeth and scribbled on the newspaper. _"Guinevere,_ ushed that one lasht week, you amateursh."

"Sorry?" Rythian said, befuddled.

Zylus tapped the paper with his pencil. "Crosshword," he said. "They reushe cluesh. I've written them about it twishe and they're shtill doing it. Amateursh."

"Oh," said Rythian. Carefully, he lifted up his respirator and took a sip of tea.

Silence fell between them, finely diced by the ticking of the clock over the microwave. Zylus seemed engrossed in his crossword, but as Rythian watched him, one of his eyes started to scrunch up, and he began to lean away from the living room more and more. It was like someone was slowly moving a heat lamp closer to his face, and soon his discomfort was evident.

"Um," Rythian said eventually. "Are you . . . okay?"

Zylus shook his head and scoffed. "It'sh jusht Nileshy. Like having a fucking air horn in your ear, shwear to God."

"Oh?" said Rythian, unsure of how to react.

"He _really fucking hatesh_ that job," Zylus said. Absently, he stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it, like he was trying to get water out. "Pro tip: don't try to talk to him when he comesh out of hish room. Don't try to talk to him when he getsh home, either."

"Why not?"

"Becauseh one: it won't work, and two: if you could hear the absholute fucking _shitshtorm_ that'sh coming off him right now, you'd want to be in another fucking _country._ It'sh horrendoush."

"Why don't you just . . . stop listening?" Rythian suggested.

"Did I mention how it'sh like having an air horn in your ear?" Zylus asked, regarding him coolly. "Short of hard to tune that out. I wouldn't go back in Nileshy'sh head for anything in the fucking world. It'sh bad enough catching the shit that shpillsh out."

"Oh," said Rythian.

Just then, Nilesy's door opened, and Dish Boy crept out.

 _Nilesy_ crept out, Rythian corrected himself hurriedly, because they _were_ actually the same person, even if they didn't look it. His head was bowed, the expression of permanent misery affixed to his face, his shoulders slumped, his hair tucked under a backwards baseball cap, but it _was_ still Nilesy. Somewhere under there.

He made his way to the door, not looking at either of them, not so much as acknowledging their existence. Zylus had put a hand to his head and was breathing very carefully, as though it was a difficult task.

"Um," Rythian said, as Nilesy tugged the door open. "Have—have a short shift."

Nilesy paused. He half-turned and glanced up at Rythian. The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and then he ducked out. A moment later, the lock jiggled and clicked, and there was a distant sound of rattling stairs.

Slowly, as the pink haze faded from Rythian's mind, he found that Zylus was staring at him. He fidgeted.

"What?" he said.

"How did you _do_ that?" Zylus asked, awed.

"Do what?" said Rythian, shrugging.

Zylus gestured to the door. "That— _that!_ Whatever you jusht did!"

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Rythian admitted.

Shaking his head, Zylus let out a gravelly sigh. "Of courshe you don't. Chrisht."

Silence fell between them again. Rythian finished his tea and went hunting around in the refrigerator for something to eat. Zylus continued poring over the morning paper's crossword, occasionally muttering at it under his breath.

A few minutes passed, while Rythian worked his way through a cinnamon-raisin bagel and Zylus worked his way through the crossword. The more time went on without conversation, though, the more the tempest at the back of Rythian's head rumbled and swelled. He forced it down, focusing all his thought on the past twelve hours, on the pleasant warmth of this little kitchen, on the tapping of Zylus's pencil against the newspaper.

This was fine. This was better by far than remembering.

"It'sh not good for you," Zylus said quietly, not looking up from his crossword. "What you're doing. Represshing it like thish. It'll come back to bite you."

Rythian stiffened. "It seems to be working fine," he said.

"For now," Zylus allowed. "But keep it up and you'll end up like Nileshy."

"Is that a _bad_ thing?" Rythian asked, his hackles raised.

Zylus gave him a dubious look. "Look me in the eyesh and tell me honeshtly that you think Nileshy ish a happy and well-adjushted pershon."

"He seems fine," he said stiffly.

"He killsh people for fun," Zylus retorted.

Rythian clenched his jaw and looked away. He fidgeted, distinctly uncomfortable.

"And—what, that's because he . . . doesn't wallow in misery whenever something bad happens?" he asked at last.

"Fuck if _I_ know why he doesh it," Zylus said. "I don't think _he_ knowsh why he doesh it. What I _do_ know ish that refushing to proshessh thingsh like thish will poke holesh in your brain until you're left with a fine mesh."

"How could you possibly know that?" Rythian asked, glaring at him.

"If you shpend enough time in people'sh headsh, you shtart to learn the texshturesh of their trauma," he said, his voice heavy. He turned his eyes back to the crossword and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "If you don't deal with it, _it_ dealsh with _you."_

"Very poetic," Rythian said dryly. "I'll keep repressing, if it's all the same to you."

"It'sh not," he said. "Being in a room with you ish like shtanding on a piano wire. I know you're going to shnap. It'sh jusht a matter of _when._ It'sh the shame thing with Nileshy, only he _keepsh_ shnapping. Onshe every two monthsh, and it'sh getting worshe."

"Then why don't you leave? Why don't you just take your . . . your stupid metaphors and _leave?"_

"Becaushe no one _elshe_ ish going to take care of you fucking _lunaticsh,"_ Zylus said. Rythian opened his mouth and Zylus jabbed a finger at him. "If you tell me to put money in that fucking jar I will _end_ you."

"Who said we needed taking care of?" Rythian demanded, fists clenching. A spark scrambled down the space between his ribs and his arm, tickling as it went.

"I did," said Zylus. "And if you want to shtay in happy-land until the posht-traumatic shtressh shetsh in, _fine._ But you'll have to fight me to shtay there."

"You don't do this to Nilesy," Rythian said.

"What makesh you think _that?_ The only pershon I don't do it to ish Lom, and that'sh becaushe _she_ dealsh with her trauma like a reashonable pershon."

"Explains a few things about Panda," Rythian grumbled.

Zylus opened his mouth, then stopped. Slowly, he turned to look at Rythian.

"What did he do?" he asked quietly, eyes narrowed.

Rythian's heart skipped a beat. The memory of cold steel made his throat prickle.

"N-noth—" he began, but Zylus cut him off.

 _"Why_ did he have a fucking _knife_ to your throat?" he demanded.

"What, like I _asked_ for it?" Rythian retorted.

"Did he hurt you?" Zylus asked, his voice taut.

Rythian looked away and shrugged. "No. Not really."

But he was _going_ to, the way he trembled and hissed, the way his eyes burned with feverish hatred, the sharp commands to _beg_ for his life—

"He fucking _didn't,"_ Zylus said darkly, the words coming out slow and furious.

"W-well, I mean—" Rythian stammered, unnerved.

Zylus got to his feet and pointed sternly at Rythian.

"Thish doeshn't go pasht the three of ush," he said. "Undershtand?"

"Um. Why?" he asked.

"Becaushe it wash a shtupid mishtake and Panda will like you a lot better if you _don't_ rat him out to Nileshy, and becaushe I'm _already_ shick and fucking tired of watching you three fuck up."

Rythian tried to sputter out a response, but Zylus was already heading for Panda's closed door, his face like a thunderstorm. Before Rythian could stop him, he'd knocked sharply and called Panda's name.

A moment later, Panda opened the door, his hair a mess, his eyes bleary.

"What?" he said.

"Get out here and don't shay a fucking word," Zylus hissed, managing to loom over Panda despite being only a few inches taller.

Panda's eyes flicked to Rythian, and Rythian's spine prickled. Panda yanked the door the rest of the way open, then brushed past Zylus and threw himself onto the armchair. He folded his arms and glared, his leg jittering.

"Rythian," Zylus said. "Come have a sheat."

Slowly, Rythian edged over and perched on the arm of the sofa, as far from Panda as he could get.

"Panda, do you have shomething you want to shay?" Zylus asked.

"No," said Panda, petulant.

"For _fuck'sh shake!"_ Zylus spat through his teeth. "Thish ish fucking _ridiculoush_ and if you don't _cut it out,_ I am _going_ to tell Nileshy when he getsh home, and I am going to let _Rythian_ exshplain exshactly what happened. _Do you have shomething you want to shay?"_

Panda chewed his lip, seething. "He shouldn't be here," he said.

"Not good enough," Zylus said. "Try again."

"He's got _no right_ to be here!" Panda hissed, sitting forward and clenching his teeth.

"Okay, shinshe you're not going to shay it, I'll help you," said Zylus. "What you _mean_ ish: he'sh got no right to Nileshy."

Panda's jaw clenched. Rythian wished, once again, that he could turn invisible. He was sweaty, fidgeting; he kept waiting for the knives to appear in Panda's hands.

"Well?" Panda said darkly. "He hasn't."

"He's not a fucking _parking space,"_ Rythian snapped.

"You're not helping," Zylus said, glaring at him. "Jeshush Chrisht, the lasht thing I need ish _both_ of you getting shtupidly jealoush."

 _"Jealous?"_ Panda cried, leaping to his feet. Zylus shushed him, glancing at Lomadia's door. Rythian thought it would rather serve him right if he drew attention to himself with his little tantrum.

 _"Shtop that,"_ Zylus growled, glaring at Rythian. "You're _not. Helping."_

"What did he just think?" Panda demanded. "What did he just think about me?"

"The shame thing _I_ do, which ish that you're acting like a _child,"_ Zylus said. "Honeshtly, you want sho _deshperately_ for Nileshy to take you sherioushly, but you inshisht on acting like you're fucking _twelve."_

Panda recoiled slightly, blinking. "That's—that's got nothing to do with—"

"Really?" Zylus interrupted sharply. "You're really trying to pull that shit with _me?"_

He swallowed, glanced at Rythian, clenched his fists. "What am I _supposed_ to do, then? Just—just sit back and _take it?"_

Rythian opened his mouth to make a pointed remark, then shut it again when Zylus glared at him.

"You're _shupposhed_ to _talk_ about it," Zylus said to Panda.

"I think he's been _very_ clear with how he feels about all this," Rythian said.

 _"Not with you,"_ Zylus growled.

To Rythian's surprise, Panda looked away and shrugged, looking suddenly smaller.

"I . . . can't," he said meekly. "He wouldn't—he wouldn't understand, he'd—"

"What, kick you to the fucking curb?" Zylus asked, folding his arms. "He wouldn't. He _might_ if you keep threatening people he likesh."

Despite himself, Rythian blushed. Zylus glanced at him and wrinkled his nose. A trickle of blood rolled out, crawling down towards his lips. He paused, then frowned, looking back at Rythian.

"What?" he said.

"Your . . . um. Your nose is—"

"Oh, fuck'sh _shake,"_ Zylus sighed. He pressed the back of his hand to his nose and looked at the blood that had smeared on it. "That'sh what happensh when I overexshert myshelf trying to make sure you're not _both_ about to fucking kill each other. Fucking Chrisht."

"Um," said Panda. "I'll . . . I'll get you a tissue."

"Thanksh," said Zylus, pressing his hand back to his nose. Panda hurried off back into his room, and Zylus went to sit in the armchair, still dabbing at his nose.

Panda returned with a handful of tissues, and Zylus rolled one up and stuck it in his nose. He used the others to wipe the blood off his hand and face.

"Well _that'sh_ going to be a migraine later," he muttered to himself.

"Sorry," Panda said, fidgeting.

Zylus sighed. "Look, jusht—jusht promishe me you're not going to _hurt_ anyone. Okay? That'sh all I want. Both of you."

Rythian looked at Panda, and Panda looked at Rythian. Briefly, Rythian was tempted to protest that he hadn't done _anything_ wrong, that he had not once threatened Panda's life—or anyone's life for that matter—but he held his tongue. After all, he could kill anyone in the room with a single touch, so what did it matter whether he'd been planning to or not?

"Truce?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Panda ground his teeth for a moment, then agreed, "Truce. For now. I still don't like you."

"Ditto," said Rythian.

 _"Children,"_ Zylus growled.

Panda folded his arms and glared at the far corner of the room.

"Can I go back to bed now?" he asked, impertinent.

"Go," said Zylus, gesturing to his door. Panda threw one last barbed glare at Rythian and stalked off to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. There was the click of a lock being turned.

Zylus sighed.

"I'm shorry," he said.

Rythian blinked at him. "You're . . . _sorry?"_

"Yesh. About him. It shucksh, and I'm shorry. Hopefully he'll get ushed to you, and in the meantime, hopefully he won't be quite sho violent."

"Oh," said Rythian. "Um. Do you . . . need anything? For the—the nose thing. Or the . . . migraine."

He shook his head. "I'll handle it myshelf, thanksh. You should shtay in my room tonight. I'll shleep on the couch, jusht in cashe Panda getsh any funny ideash."

"Um. I . . . wasn't even on the couch. This time."

Zylus cast a long-suffering look at him. "Yesh, I _know._ But Nileshy'sh a lot harder to wake up than I am. Trusht me."

"I can . . . see how that would work," Rythian said. "Um. Thank—thank you. For . . . all of this."

His mouth quirked up into a little smile, and he lowered his eyes, shrugging. "Sheemsh like the leasht I can do. But you're welcome."

It struck Rythian, for the first time in a long time, just how _cute_ he was.

Zylus raised his eyebrows. "Thanksh," he said. Rythian blushed.

"It's not—that doesn't mean—"

"I _know_ what it meansh, dork."

 _"You're_ a dork," Rythian retorted hotly.

"Thanksh," Zylus said again, and grinned at him.

 


	26. Chapter 25

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Despite everything, a week had passed. Nano had somehow managed to keep working, although she wasn't actually getting much done. It was still better than sitting around doing nothing, and it kept her from thinking too much, at least most of the time.

She'd been calling Xephos daily, mostly to try and pressure him into letting her talk to Lalna. His answer was always identical, always delivered in the same put-upon sigh.

 _"He's simply not_ _ready,_ _Nano,"_ he would say, and she could hear him rolling his eyes. _"There was a great deal of damage done, you know. I'm trying to salvage as much as I can, but it's slow going."_

"How slow could it be?" she would ask, failing to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

 _"Dr. Sounds, it's quite literally brain surgery, and in some respects, also rocket science,"_ Xephos would say. _"I'm doing the best that I can."_

The conversation never changed, but she kept calling him anyway. At first it was because she hoped he might say something different; later on, it was because the repetition was something of a comfort.

Xephos was doing the best that he could. The man might have been a complete and utter _ass,_ but he was at least a brilliant ass. Much as he hated for people to mention it, he'd been born with a Powered brain that had enabled him to do incredible things, like building a robot so human that they had rendered the Turing test completely obsolete. There was a story around the Division that he'd solved cold fusion when he was sixteen, and the only reason he hadn't done anything with it was because he found it dull. The best that Xephos could do was far better than anyone else could dream of.

Even if she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, but what other choice did she have? When she'd confronted him about his dishonest behavior—telling everyone he'd had no idea where Lalna was despite, apparently, knowing precisely where to find them—he'd stuck to his guns and claimed he _hadn't_ known where Lalna was, presuming they wouldn't have returned home, and that he had called her in desperation.

She hadn't pushed the point, despite the fact that she was almost certain he was lying, because there had been an edge to his voice that made her hindbrain sink claws into her spine.

Nano had also been texting Rythian every morning and calling him every evening. At first, the messages had been heartfelt, pleading him to answer, hoping he was all right, but eventually she wore out of her worry and settled into routine. She didn't send quite the same text every morning, nor leave the same message every evening, but they were all of one theme.

 

_Hi Rythian. Hope you're okay. We miss you. Come home soon._

 

He never answered, but she kept leaving the messages anyway, because there was always a chance that this time, for whatever reason, he might hear. A cynical part of her insisted that either his phone was dead or he was, and it spoke a little louder with every day that went by.

By Saturday, she was leaving her messages purely out of spite.

Finally, on Monday of the second week, her dreary routine was broken. She was down in the lab, working on polymers and only half paying attention to what she was doing, when her phone rang. She had a moment of dizzying hope that it might be Rythian, but that was smashed out of the air the moment she looked at her phone. The call was from Fiona.

"Hey," she answered, a little breathless from having her heart leap so far into her throat.

 _"Hi, Dr. Sounds,"_ said Fiona.

"Call me Nano," she said.

_"Oh. Um, okay. Nano. Look, um . . . Zoey's been feeling loads better, and she sort of—well, I told her you'd wanted to come visit, and she'd really like to see you, and I sort of would, too. If that's okay. I'm sure you're super busy and you really don't have to if you don't want to, we've just been getting sort of lonely and Zo's not going to be out of here for another week at least."_

Nano had to swallow down the lump in her throat before she could answer.

"I would . . . really like that," she said. "To come visit, I mean. If it's okay. I've been—God, I've been moping about alone all week, barely even left the lab, it'd do me some good to be out and about."

 _"Oh, God, yeah,"_ said Fiona, a wince in her voice. _"That sounds pretty awful. You all right?"_

"I'm . . . managing," she said. "How about you two? Holding up okay?"

_"Yeah. I mean about as much as can be expected. I mean we've sort of had to talk about it loads, between the reporters and the therapists and Xephos, so there's not really a chance to, like, not think about it? But I guess that's probably best in the long run."_

"Therapists, huh?" said Nano, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. "Think I could get one of them?"

_"Yeah, probably. With the three of us, we could probably have like, group therapy or something."_

"Not sure I'd qualify for that, I wasn't even there."

_"Probably wouldn't hurt, though. I'd be fine with you being there."_

"You would?"

_"Don't see why not."_

"That . . . means a lot, Fiona," she said. "Thank you."

_"Sure, anytime. So, d'you want to come visit today? Zo's eating right now, otherwise she'd talk to you—"_

From the background, she heard Zoey yell indistinctly, _"Hi Dr. Sounds!"_

Nano laughed. She realized, as the warmth of it spread through her chest, that it was the first time she'd done so in well over a week.

"Yes," she said to Fiona. "I would love to come visit today. When's good for you two?"

 _"Oh, any time,"_ said Fiona. _"It's not like we've got anything to do. Although pretty soon they're fitting Zo for a prosthetic."_

"Really? This soon?"

_"She's healing up really well, apparently."_

"That's fantastic. Um. D'you mind if I head over now? Only I've been staring at polymers for, like, a week, and I'm not even really doing anything at this point, and . . . yeah."

_"Sure, sounds fine."_

She told Nano the hospital and the room, and Nano headed off the very moment she hung up.

* * *

 

Zoey was pale, but smiling, as Nano entered her hospital room. Fiona was sitting at her bedside, idly thumbing at her phone. Nano tried as hard as she could not to stare at the bandaged stump of Zoey's right arm, but her eyes seemed magnetized to it, and even a moment's inattention would leave her staring at the missing limb.

Zoey raised the stump and waved it.

"Hiya, Dr. Sounds!" she said, chipper as ever. "I'd shake your hand, but, sorry, you're just really _disarming!"_

"Babe, no," Fiona muttered, shaking her head.

"Babe yes!" Zoey countered, grinning.

"Oh my God," Nano said, at a complete loss for what else to say.

 _"I_ thought it was funny," said Zoey, pouting. "You can come in, Dr. Sounds, it's okay. I think we've got an extra chair round here somewhere you could sit in—ooh, or Fiona could sit on the bed, that's okay too—or I guess we could get a chair from somewhere else, or—"

"There's—yeah, I've found the other chair," said Nano, taking a folding metal chair from against the wall and carrying it over to the bed. She set it out next to Fiona's chair—which was a good deal more comfortable—and settled into it.

"Oh! Good! See, I knew there was another chair in here. I'm super observant."

"You put the rest of us to shame, babe," Fiona said.

"Yeah," said Zoey. "So, um, Dr. Sounds, yeah, hi, it's really good to see you!"

"It's—you can just call me Nano," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Oh my gosh, really?" Zoey squeaked. "Oh! Okay! It's really super good to see you, Nano!"

"It's . . . it's really, _super_ good to see you, too, Zoey," she said, a smile tugging at her mouth. "You seem like you're doing really well."

"Mm, mm," said Zoey, nodding emphatically. "I was sort of upset at first, but then some of the Section L people came by and they said they'd been working on like, robot arms and stuff for like _ages,_ and they were going to make one for me, and I'm just like _super_ excited 'cause I'm going to have a robot arm and they even said they'd put a grappling hook in it!"

"Would that even—" Nano began, and stopped herself. "That sounds really amazing, Zoey. I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah! I'd say you should get a robot arm, but getting rid of the old one really isn't fun at all so maybe not. Ooh, unless you just got an _extra_ robot arm, yeah, that'd be super cool!"

"Where would you _put_ it, babe?" Fiona asked.

Zoey shrugged. "I dunno, like . . . under one of the other ones? You could have _two_ extra robot arms and be like a spider or something! Yeah, that'd be good."

"It'd need to be four extra, if you were going to be a spider," Nano said. "Unless you just had two extra arms and two extra legs."

"Hmm, I dunno, extra legs might sort of get in the way," Zoey said. "Ooh, hey, Dr. . . . Nano, um, you know lots about robots and stuff, right?"

"Some," she allowed.

"Well, okay, so like, I was thinking it'd be super cool if I could get my new robot arm to like, make me super powerful and everything, like it'll be better than my old arm, so like, d'you think they could make it so I can shoot lasers out of it? 'Cause I think that'd be really cool, to have like a laser arm."

"I . . . _guess,_ yeah," said Nano. "I'm not really into biomechanics, but it sounds like it could be done, so I don't see why not."

"Great!" Zoey chirped. "I'll be like, super-cop!"

"You're already a super cop, babe," Fiona said.

"Okay, I'll be like super- _duper_ -cop! Almost as super-duper as you, babe."

Fiona snorted and reached out a hand. Zoey took it, and they laced their fingers together. Nano blinked a few times to clear the teary mist from her eyes and sniffed.

"I'm . . . I'm really glad you're okay, Zoey," she said. "I was really worried about you."

"Aw," said Zoey. "Thanks, Nano. I'm glad I'm okay too. Oh, gosh, I haven't even asked—how're _you?_ Gosh, I'm sorry, I got really excited about the robot arm thing again."

"It's fine," said Nano. "And I'm . . . I'm doing okay. Not great, but . . . okay. It's sort of weird, y'know, being on my own all of a sudden? But I'm managing."

"That's good," said Zoey. "I mean. Sort of."

"Could be worse," Fiona said.

"God, yeah," said Nano, shaking her head.

"But you're like . . . mostly okay? You can come by and visit anytime, by the way, I'm sure it's like super lonely in that great big lab now without, well, anybody else there. Ooh! Once I'm out of hospital Fi and me can come visit! That'll be great, too!"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to wear you out with visiting or anything," said Nano. "But if there's anything you need, I could always come to you. Help clean up or cook or something."

"You—you really don't have to," said Fiona, blushing.

"Trust me, anything's better than being stuck in that damn lab all day every day. It's not like I've got anywhere else to go. There's only so much work a woman can do before her brain short-circuits."

"Um," said Zoey, and bit her lip. "S-speaking of. Um. Have you . . . I mean, has Rythian. . . ?"

She shook her head, a hollowness sinking fangs into her chest. "Not a peep," she said. "Sorry."

"Oh," said Zoey. "I'm sure it's fine. I'm sure he's fine, I mean, he's always fine. He just runs off sometimes when he gets, like, really upset or scared or anything. He'll come back! I'm sure he'll come back, and he'll be, like, completely fine. Yeah."

"I really hope so, Zoey," Nano said. "I really, really hope so."

"Well . . . well when he _does_ turn up, um. Make sure you call me, 'cause I really want to show him my awesome new robot arm. When I've got it. Okay?"

"Absolutely," said Nano. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"Yeah. Well, kind of. Except he won't be able to like, touch it or anything. Hm. That's sort of not good."

"Maybe they can make it electricity-proof?" Fiona suggested.

"Ooh! Yeah! That'd be perfect. Good thinking, babe. Hey, hey Nano, is there some way to make robot arms electricity-proof? 'Cause it'd really suck if I like, couldn't hug Rythian anymore just 'cause I've got a robot arm."

She chewed her lip, thinking it through.

"I _guess_ you could make it work," she said. "I mean, worst case scenario, you'll just have to do one-arm hugs. So long as the arm doesn't touch him, it's probably. . . ." She trailed off.

Between Lalna and Zoey, she was starting to feel like she was honor-bound to hug Rythian next time she saw him, just because so many other people who really wanted to couldn't.

"Okay, yeah, but like," said Zoey, "there's got to be some kind of like, insulation or something, right?"

"Like those big rubber gloves they use for working on power lines and stuff," said Fiona. "I'm sure that'd work. He could use a phone and everything, so he must have _something_ that works. Right?"

"If you don't mind getting shorted out when he gets excited," said Nano.

"I don't," said Zoey brightly. "I'm sure we'll figure something out and it'll all be okay. Yeah, I'm super sure."

"Super- _duper_ sure?" Fiona asked, squeezing her hand.

Zoey cast her eyes to the ceiling and pursed her lips, then nodded decisively.

"Yep!" she said. "Super-duper sure."

* * *

 

On Wednesday, Lalna came home.

Nano's morning call to Xephos had finally borne fruit, and the prognosis had been encouraging.

 _"I think he's ready,"_ Xephos had said, sounding tired but proud. _"He certainly seems to think so."_

"Is—are they all right?" she'd asked.

 _"Oh, yes, perfectly fine,"_ said Xephos. _"The damage was nowhere near so extensive as I initially thought. A few minor deletions, a bit of rearranging—he should be very nearly back to normal, dare I say it."_

"As in—?"

 _"As in before his little_ _episode,_ _yes,"_ said Xephos. _"There shouldn't be any more moping or crashing, but do let me know if it happens anyway. He is rather delicate and I can't be absolutely certain I've fixed_ _everything._ _"_

She'd found herself crying, her voice thick with emotion.

"Thank you," she'd said.

 _"You are very welcome, Dr. Sounds,"_ he'd said gently. _"I shall bring him home at once."_

And he had—twenty minutes later the door was opening and Lalna was walking in and their eyes flipped instantly to a brilliant summertime green.

"Nano!" they cried, delighted. "I missed you very much!"

Nano sprinted across the living room and flung her arms around them, burying her face in their chest. They embraced her, gentle but strong.

"Oh, God, Lal," she whispered, soaking their shirt with tears. "I missed you too. _God,_ I missed you, too."

"It's okay," they said. "I'm here now."

She nodded, sniffling, unable to find any other words to say.

"I . . . suppose," Xephos said, somewhere behind Lalna, "I'll just leave the two of you to it, then? I doubt there's much else I can do here."

"No, no," said Nano, prying herself off of Lalna. They kept one arm around her shoulders, and she put her hand over theirs. "No, you can—you can stay for tea, at least, if you want." She wiped her eyes and sniffled again.

Xephos smiled tightly. "I believe I shall have to decline. It has been a rather grueling week, and I think I should like to get some sleep."

"Yes," said Lalna seriously. "Sleep is very important to proper human functionality."

"Quite," said Xephos. "Besides, I'm certain the two of you have a good deal of catching up to do, and I should hate to intrude."

"Well—thank you," Nano said. "For . . . for bringing them home."

"I am very happy to be back," Lalna added.

"As well you should be," Xephos said, his smile rather more genuine this time. "Welcome home, Lalna. And do call me if anything comes up."

They gave him a thumbs-up and nodded. "Okay," they said.

Xephos returned the gesture and took his leave. The black company car eased out of the driveway, nosing into traffic before pulling away.

Nano squeezed Lalna's hand and leaned her head on their arm. They pulled her close, their systems humming contentedly under their titanium skin.

"I'm glad you're all right," she said, her voice small and thin.

"Yes," said Lalna. "So am I. Are _you_ all right?"

She sniffled, and shut her eyes, and breathed in the metallic, mechanical smell of them, listening to the click and whirr of their living systems.

"I am now," she said.

* * *

 

She waited another two days before broaching the subject of the training exercise. It wasn't an easy choice to make, weighing her own morbid curiosity against the possibility that Lalna would crash again, but in the end, the need to know the truth won out.

Although there was a niggling little part of her that assured her she couldn't possibly get the truth from Lalna, now that Xephos had been poking about in their head for a week.

"Lalna?" she began, as they sat together at the dinner table. She'd finished eating, and they were making one of their little metal flowers, carefully bending the thin copper sheets into shape.

"Yes?" they said, turning their face to her, their eyes a deep turquoise. Their hands kept on working at the flower, unhindered by the turning of their head.

"Um," she said. "Look, this might be a really . . . difficult question, and if you don't want to answer, that's totally okay, like if it's too hard or too upsetting or anything like that—"

"It's okay," said Lalna. "I'm feeling much better now. I think I am emotionally robust enough to answer any questions, even very difficult ones."

"Right," said Nano, and fidgeted. "Lalna, what . . . what _happened,_ during that—that training exercise Xephos put you through? The one that you did right before the—everything."

Lalna tipped their head to the side, their eyes turning orange as they thought.

"It was a standard training exercise," they said. Their eyes flickered pale purple for just an instant. "I . . . think."

"You _think?"_ said Nano. She wasn't sure whether to feel more worried or vindicated.

Slowly, Lalna nodded. "I am missing part of my record. I recall the majority of the training exercise, but the record abruptly ends before the exercise concluded and does not resume until I arrived home afterwards."

"That's . . . odd," said Nano. She decided to opt for worried, since the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. The impulse to look over her shoulder was rising for reasons she couldn't quite place.

Lalna nodded again. Their eyes were growing paler, the colors shifting subtly.

"I was very upset," they said. "For several days. I . . . do not remember why. I would like to ask if _you_ know why I was so upset, but I'm not confident that I would want to know. Xephos said that I would not want to know, since it would only upset me again, but it is also distressing to know that I was upset and to not know why. I think I should also apologize for my behavior, but since I don't know what caused it I am not sure that is an appropriate reaction."

"I . . . don't know," Nano admitted. "I don't know what was wrong. What _is_ wrong. You wouldn't say."

"Oh," said Lalna, hanging their head. "I understand."

She reached across the table and put a hand on their wrist. Their fingers finally stilled, pausing their crafting.

"We'll figure it out, Lalna," she promised. "I'm sure Xephos knows. We'll convince him to tell us. Okay?"

Lalna considered for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," they said.

She hesitated, then asked, "Do you remember . . . what happened with _Joule's?"_

"No," they said. "But Xephos told me."

"Wait, wait, you don't remember seeing it on the news?" she asked, her heart rate kicking up to a low buzz.

"No," they said. "I am missing that morning's record."

 _"All_ of it?"

They thought. "Yes. My first recorded data for May eighth is at four thirty p.m."

"Four—four _thirty?"_ she sputtered. "Lalna, that—that's the whole day! The whole day, just—just _gone?"_

"Yes," they said, tipping their head to the side. "Xephos said it was necessary, because my systems were overwhelmed and revisiting the memory files could cause another crash."

"But you . . . you crashed just after eight," she said. "Xephos came by at noon to wake you back up again. And you don't have _any_ records until _four thirty?"_

They paused. Slowly, their eyes turned a bright, vibrant, suspicious fuchsia.

"That is not good," they concluded.

"No," Nano said coldly. "No, it is not. I think we should have a talk with Xephos about all this. Very soon. _Both_ of us."

"You think he is hiding something," Lalna said.

"Yes, I damn well do," Nano said. "And I think he's been hiding _plenty_ of things, for quite some time, and I think it's about time we figured out what they are. He can't treat you like this. Being a damn ass about your proper pronouns is one thing, but messing about in your brain is _something else."_

Lalna ducked their head, and their eyes dropped to a dim purple.

"Maybe he is just attempting to do what's best for me," they said. "He is a damn ass, but he is also my. . . ."

"Your?" she prompted, feeling ill.

"He is not my father," they said. They cupped their little flower in their hands and started ticking their thumbs together. "But he would not hurt me. He loves me. I am not certain that he is doing anything wrong. Maybe he has just forgotten to explain again."

"Well, then we'll _remind_ him to explain," said Nano. She had to fight to keep the anger out of her voice, but evidently she didn't do it well enough.

"You are angry with him," Lalna said.

"I'm fucking _furious_ with him," she said. "I'm _fed up_ with him, and I'm going to have it out with him one way or another. This is _wrong._ What he's done to you is _wrong,_ and I'm not putting up with it anymore."

"How do you know it's wrong?" they asked. "Xephos does what's best for me. That is his job."

"Lalna, I'm not sure that's true," said Nano. "I think Xephos does what's best for _Xephos,_ and he just doesn't want you catching on to that. I think we need to know what happened at the end of that training session, and why he's been wiping bits of your memory in the first place."

"Some of my code was corrupted from being improperly accessed," Lalna said.

"If that's the case, then why is it only your memories that are missing?" she asked.

They froze solid, and if it hadn't been for the pale purple glow of their eyes, she would have been convinced they'd just crashed again. Even so, her heart skipped a beat and her breath came short.

Shade by shade, Lalna's eyes turned a bright and _violent_ red. Their hands closed on the flower, and there was a screech of bending metal. Nano leaned back in her chair and swallowed.

"I think we should have a talk with Xephos," they said, their voice low.

"Right," Nano said thinly. "On . . . on Monday morning, we'll—"

"No," said Lalna, getting to their feet. The remains of the flower fell to the table, crushed and mangled. "We are going now."

 


	27. Chapter 26

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The first two weeks at Nilesy's had gone, for lack of a better word, swimmingly.

After the first few nights, Rythian had volunteered to sleep on the couch, wary of overstaying his welcome. Zylus had cast plenty a worried look at him, but since Panda hadn't turned up to slit his throat while he slept, the arrangement had stood. Aside from that, Zylus had figured out that it was perfectly possible for Rythian to take showers, so long as the metal drain was covered by a rubber bath mat. Only Lomadia was in possession of such a mat, but she seemed perfectly willing to let Rythian use her shower whenever he wanted. Since Nilesy had given him a fair wad of cash to buy himself a few new sets of clothes (with the stipulation that one of them be a nice suit), Rythian had been making use of it almost daily—he'd never had the pleasure of a hot shower, and it was such a lovely experience that he saw no reason not to take advantage of it as often as possible. Changing clothes was also a novel and delightful experience, especially considering that he'd been free to get whatever he wanted. There were a lot of buckles and zippers and ringlets, black and purple and silver. He had even managed to get himself a new scarf, despite the turning of the season.

Shortly after the shopping trip, he and Lomadia had spent a long, late evening together making sure the suit fit just right. She must have gone through eight rounds, at least, of having him try on the slightly-altered suit so she could check all the hems and seams, so she could put pins dangerously close to his skin, so she could study him critically until he blushed. By the end of it, although he was exhausted and she was complaining about sore fingers, the suit fit better than anything he'd ever worn, except perhaps the outfit Garion had made him. Lomadia had given him a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek and let him hang the suit up in her closet so it wouldn't get wrinkled.

There was a kind of rhythm to the place, a routine that Rythian found himself falling into easily. Lomadia would come home in the wee hours of the morning and wait around for everyone else to wake up, usually thumbing away at a handheld gaming system while she did so. Shortly after sunrise, Panda and Zylus would get up, and usually so would Nilesy, apart from the few times he'd slept in until mid-afternoon. They'd all have breakfast together, and then some or all of them would head out into the world—Zylus and Nilesy to work, Panda to university. Once they'd gone, Lomadia would go to bed, and Rythian would be left alone until evening.

By Wednesday of the first week, he'd taken up playing Zylus's video games, lacking absolutely anything else to do. By the next Friday, he'd almost beaten the first three levels in Mario 3.

The evenings were, generally, both more pleasant and more interesting. There was dinner, and usually video games, and a lot of talking about not much at all. Even when Nilesy wasn't there, kept at work until nearly midnight, Rythian found that he enjoyed the company. After the first few days, Panda was acting almost _civil_ towards him.

One thing he did _not_ enjoy was seeing Nilesy come home from work, and it was plainly evident that he wasn't the only one.

It was generally a violent, moody affair, slammed doors and lowered gazes and hushed voices for hours afterwards. He would lock himself in his room and no one, not even Lomadia, dared to go in and get him. Zylus tended to get very quiet during these times, white-faced and tense, and flinched if anyone moved too quickly. Eventually Nilesy would come out on his own, either later that evening or the next morning. He always seemed perfectly fine afterwards, as though nothing at all had happened, and that more than anything made Rythian nervous.

Still, about one night in three, he would snuggle up with Rythian on the couch instead of Panda or Lomadia, slipping under his arm and resting his head on his shoulder, and that more than made up for everything else.

Sometimes, if no one else was around, they would kiss.

Very early on, all of them except Zylus had sat down and worked out a schedule. There had been day planners. Rythian had mostly kept his mouth shut and let the other three figure it out, because he had no prior obligations and he was more than happy to just fill in the gaps. There had been a lot of dirty looks from Panda nonetheless, but now that some time had passed, things seemed to have settled.

Just when Rythian was getting comfortable, the issue of Lalna came up.

It had been a long Saturday evening—one of Nilesy's rare days off, no school for Panda, and Lomadia had gotten up before sunset—and they'd all just gotten done with dinner when Nilesy sat forward and leaned his elbows on the kitchen island and the whole mood of the room cooled ten degrees.

"So," he said. "What're we going to do about the robot?"

There was a good five seconds of silence, snipped out precisely by the ticking of the clock.

"It hashn't done anything shinshe _Joule'sh,"_ Zylus said. "Hate to keep shaying it, but do we _have_ to do anything?"

"Yes," Rythian snapped, before anyone else could answer. Something in his blood was boiling, stirred up by the storm at the back of his head.

"Oh, well if _you_ say so," Panda said. He took out a knife from somewhere, and a sharpener from somewhere else, and started honing the already gleaming blade.

"Were _you_ there?" Rythian demanded. "Did _you_ see the fucking blood on the walls?"

"Boo-fucking-hoo," said Panda.

"Panda," Nilesy cut in sharply. Panda jumped. "If you can't be civil, you can leave."

Panda scowled down at the knife in his hand, but said nothing.

"Rythian's right," said Lomadia. "It's going to do it again someday. Now that it's done it once."

"We don't even know where the damn thing _ish,"_ Zylus said. "And conshidering what it did to _Joule'sh,_ I'm not sure we even want to. We wouldn't shtand a fucking chanshe."

"Not with _that_ attitude," said Panda.

"I'm shorry, did you watch the shame newsh broadcasht _I_ did? Becaushe what _I_ shaw wash a fucking _masshacre."_

"But they weren't ready," Lomadia said. "We'll be ready."

"We'll be fucking _toasht,"_ Zylus retorted.

"Ease off on the pessimism, please," Nilesy said.

"It'sh _realishm,_ Nileshy."

He grinned starrily at Zylus. "Ease off on the realism, then."

"Not if it meansh getting my fucking _head_ blown off."

"Why don't we just get rid of its guns?" Lomadia said. "Then it can't even really hurt us."

"Trouble is getting that close," said Panda. He put his knife on the table and took out another one to sharpen. "Trust me, I've _tried."_

Zylus was frowning down at his hands. "Actually," he said. "If Nileshy could get a sholid connection between it and Rythian—"

"No," said Nilesy.

"Why not?" Rythian asked. "It doesn't seem like it would be much of a problem, considering you can flood a whole fucking city."

"Ahahah, no no, you've got me all wrong," Nilesy said, casting his eyes skyward. "If I tried to move that much water at once, it'd kill me. No, that was all Zylus and Panda. Amazing what you can do with a few strategically stopped pipes."

"Oh," said Rythian, fidgeting. He ran a hand back over his head and looked away. "F-fair enough." He rallied somewhat and added, "But I still don't see why it's a problem."

"Because you won't be there," Nilesy said. "Moving on."

"What?" Rythian cried. "Why—"

Nilesy fixed him with a look that pinned his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"Moving. On," he said softly.

 _"Get wrecked,"_ Panda muttered, smiling to himself. He put down the knife he was sharpening and started on another one, retrieved from some secret locale inside his clothes.

"It's only got two guns," said Lomadia. "Right? But there's four of us. Not counting Rythian."

"Three," Zylus corrected. "Wouldn't catch me dead within ten metersh of that fucking thing. Beshidesh, you shaw how fasht it wash shooting. Numbersh won't do ush any good if we're all dead in two fucking shecondsh."

"Only if it decides to start shooting," said Panda. "We did fine the first couple of times."

"Not sure I'd call it _fine,_ darling," Nilesy said.

Panda rolled his eyes and set his knife on the table. "Are you _still_ on about that?"

"Yes, and I intend to be for quite some time."

"Lom'sh on to shomething, though," Zylus mused. "If we can take the gunsh out, we've got a much better chanshe of making it out alive."

"Laser rifles," Rythian muttered.

"What's the difference?" said Panda. He had taken out, and was sharpening, yet another knife. There were now four laid out on the table in front of him.

"Actually," Zylus said, "there might be shomething to that."

"Of course," Panda grumbled.

"It'sh a lot harder for a lasher to shoot through water than a bullet," said Zylus, looking at Nilesy. "And no shrapnel."

"Yeah?" he said. "Well, finally some good news."

"It's got joints, hasn't it?" Panda asked, intent upon his knives. "In between the metal bits."

"I think so," said Lomadia. She turned her head towards Rythian.

 _"It_ does," he confirmed, his hands balled into fists.

"Super," said Panda, grinning. He blew the dust off the blade of his current knife and set it on the table. Then he pulled out another one and started sharpening it. "Bit hard to aim with a knife sticking out of you. Even _if_ you're a robot."

"You think you can get that closhe?" Zylus asked.

"If it's wasting all its lasers trying to shoot Nilesy, don't see why not," said Panda.

"You're not going to let them— _it_ actually _shoot_ at you?" Rythian asked, his heart in his throat.

Nilesy smiled at him. "Don't intend to, no. Figure I can get hold of its little wrist cannons before anything _untoward_ happens."

"Unlessh it comesh in shooting," said Zylus, "which it will."

Waving a hand, Nilesy said, "Details."

"I'll rip its arms off," said Lomadia. "Then it won't shoot anyone."

"There, see?" said Nilesy, gesturing to her with a smile. "Problem solved."

"No, it'sh _not,"_ Zylus said through his teeth, gripping the air in frustration.

 _"Details,"_ Nilesy repeated sweetly. "I think we've got enough to be getting on with, anyway. Panda ruins its aim, Lom and I take out its weapons, we pop its head off, and we're done!"

"You make it shound sho _shimple,"_ Zylus grumbled.

"Sounds fine to me," said Panda. He switched out for _yet another_ knife.

"I like it," said Lomadia. "Especially the popping its head off bit."

"Grand!" said Nilesy, sitting back. "Now all we need is a way to keep it from coming in guns blazing and something to get it to come visit in the first place."

"I guess I'll just . . . stay out of the way?" Rythian said, trying his best not to sound petulant.

Slowly, Nilesy turned his eyes to Rythian.

"Oh, no, I'm sure we could find a use for you," he said. The way he was looking at Rythian was decidedly _calculating._

"Uh-oh," Zylus said under his breath. Lomadia nudged him in the shoulder with a wing. Panda was still sharpening his knives, albeit with a little more vigor.

"Like . . . like what?" said Rythian, discomfited, his eyes darting.

A slow smile curled out across Nilesy's face.

"How d'you feel," he asked coyly, "about the term _bait?"_

Panda burst out laughing.

 _"Bait?"_ Rythian cried. "No, I don't—I feel very _bad_ about the term _bait!"_

"You _wanted_ to be useful," Panda said. "Now you will be!"

"Don't help," Zylus said.

"Bait," Nilesy said calmly. "It's worked before, hasn't it?"

"Don't remind me," Rythian growled.

"You were very good at it," Nilesy went on, grinning. "I've had some ideas in the meantime. Improvements, you might say."

_"No."_

"I was thinking about your acid lass," he said, his voice gone distant. "And high school chemistry."

"Glass?" Panda guessed, suddenly attentive. There were now eight knives on the table in front of him and he was pulling out another one.

"She won't be there," Lomadia said, perhaps more sharply than was warranted.

"I'm pretty sure she will, Lom," said Panda.

"Yes, and _since_ we're not killing her," said Nilesy, nodding to Lomadia. She ruffled her wings and folded her arms. "I thought it'd be a good idea to get her out of the way."

"You're . . . not killing her?" Rythian said. He was feeling uneasy, something uncomfortably close to guilt rolling around in his stomach.

"Of course not," said Nilesy. "Lom's going to ask her to join."

All the blood drained from Rythian's face. He swallowed and tried to press himself back into his chair.

"Oh," he said.

Zylus was looking at him with narrowed eyes, but didn't say anything.

Nilesy went on, evidently not having noticed anything amiss. "So I thought: what do we usually keep acid in?"

"Glass," Panda said again.

"Yes! Glass. I figure it couldn't be _too_ hard to get a nice glass case to keep her in while we take care of the war machine. We can have a little chat afterwards, it'll be lovely."

"That . . . is not how that would go," Rythian said.

"I know, darling," Nilesy purred, "I'm being villainous."

"She really, _really_ hates you," he pressed, despite the flush rising to his cheeks.

"So did you," Lomadia said.

"It—that's _different,"_ Rythian said stiffly.

"Still. The glass box would probably work," said Panda, switching out knives again. "Provided we could get her inside it."

"Provided we could _get_ one," said Zylus. "Glassh that'd be thick enough ish exshpenshive, eshpecially enough to make a prishon shell."

Panda brightened. "Bank heist?" he asked hopefully.

"Only if necessary," said Nilesy. Panda pouted.

"On the other hand, there'sh an eashy way to get her inshide it," Zylus said. "Put Rythian in it."

"No," Nilesy said.

"I thought you were all for me being bait," Rythian objected.

"I am," said Nilesy. "Just not that sort. There's other ways."

"There'sh really not," said Zylus. "Not that are going to work, anywaysh."

"He's _not_ going to be there," Nilesy said. His voice had dropped half an octave, and it sent shivers scrambling up Rythian's spine.

"He damn well ish if you don't want ush to all die," Zylus retorted.

The two of them stared each other down for a breathless moment. Nilesy shrugged and dropped his gaze, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine. If we must."

"It'll take time to get everything together," said Zylus. "I can work on the glassh problem."

"I'll watch for the robot," said Lomadia. "In case it turns up. And keep an eye on Nano."

"I could have another trawl through the files," said Panda, although he didn't looked pleased about it.

"Rythian," Zylus said, frowning, "when you shold your shoul to YogLabsh, did they give you an ID number?"

Panda brightened suddenly, grinning at Zylus. "You think?"

"I hope," Zylus said, inclining his head.

 _"What_ are you talking about?" Rythian asked Zylus.

"The Divishion'sh employee databashe," he said. "Lotsh more detailed information on their copsh. And preshumably Nano, which will be helpful."

"Oh," said Rythian. "I think they gave me a number. Or something. I have a card."

Frowning, Zylus said, "That might have a tracking devishe—"

"Zylus, darling," Nilesy interrupted. "Consider who's carrying it."

Zylus made a face like a small bug had just crawled up his nose. "Right," he said. "Of courshe. Forget I shaid anything. Panda, shoundsh like your accessh ish no shtringsh attached."

"Super," said Panda. "So _I'll_ be—" and he broke off, looking up suddenly with an expression of annoyance on his face.

"What?" Lomadia asked.

"I'll be forgetting my fucking insulin, like a moron," he said, and got up. "Back in a sec." And he went to his room, a little unsteady on his feet, leaving no less than twelve knives on his placemat.

"I'll . . . beat Mario?" Rythian guessed.

Nilesy propped his chin on his hand and regarded him with that same unsettling, calculating look.

"Maybe not," he murmured. "I've thought of something you and I could do in the mean time."

Rythian gulped.

* * *

 

Nilesy tugged on the knots one more time, then slid a gloved finger between the rope and Rythian's wrist, his other palm resting between Rythian's shoulder blades.

"All right?" he asked. "Not too tight?"

"Uh . . . it's fine," Rythian said. They were in a warehouse by the river. Rythian was tied to a chair and facing down a phone on a tripod, its camera pointed right at him. The morning had been spent meticulously applying false bruises and contusions to his face and neck, courtesy of Panda. They'd dressed him in his old YogLabs clothes, and dirtied those up a bit, too. He and Nilesy were alone.

Nilesy came around to stand in front of him, then squatted at his feet, looking up into his eyes earnestly. He was wearing the mask on the back of his neck, the elastic strap hung loosely across his throat. His suit, as always, was meticulously neat.

"I'm going to be rough with you," he said, his voice soft. Something in Rythian's chest shivered, warming his blood, and he fought to keep his expression neutral.

"Right," he said.

"And. . . ." Nilesy looked away and rubbed the back of his head. "Likely a bit . . . unsavory. But it's not live, and if you need me to stop, just say _red_ and I'll quit. Right away."

"Wouldn't . . . wouldn't, um, _stop it_ work?" Rythian asked.

Nilesy shrugged. "D'you know, I think it might grind their gears a bit if you're begging me to stop and I don't."

"Oh," said Rythian, discomfited. The shivering thing in his chest was back at it again, and it was making his breath come short.

"Like I said," Nilesy intoned, grimacing. _"Unsavory._ But generally effective."

"I . . . yes, I can see how that would . . . work," Rythian said. He shifted where he sat. He had anticipated a fair amount of awkwardness with the whole affair, but nothing of this magnitude.

Nilesy sighed heavily, then looked up at Rythian.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," said Rythian.

Nilesy got to his feet and took the mask from around his neck.

"You'll do fine, darling," he said, and put the mask on.

The change in his posture was subtle, but definite. It made Rythian's hair stand on end, and he was part way through trying to calm himself down when he decided that, just once, feeling a bit panicked might be useful.

Nilesy put a gloved hand on Rythian's head and pushed down, bowing him forward. Gently, he took the respirator from Rythian's face and put it under the chair. Rythian stayed where he was placed, closing his eyes and trying to slip into the mentality of a terrified hostage.

It was quite easy.

He heard the synthetic _ca-chack_ of the phone's camera, and then Nilesy came to stand behind him, putting his hands heavily on Rythian's shoulders and pulling him upright. Rythian let his head loll, keeping his eyes unfocused.

"Like I told you, darling," Nilesy said softly, with such sweet poison in his voice that it made Rythian's skin crawl.

"I—I—" Rythian began, his voice sticking in his throat.

Nilesy grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back, so sharply that Rythian cried out, half in surprise and half in pain.

"Like I fucking _told_ you," Nilesy growled. His eyes were cold behind the mask.

Rythian whimpered. Nilesy smiled and pulled his head farther back.

"Am I going to have to teach you again?" he asked, his voice lilting.

"No," Rythian gasped, starting to shake where he sat. He twisted his wrists in the ropes. His lungs were starting to ache, his heart to flutter with panic.

 _He's not going to hurt you,_ he told himself. _You're all right. It's all pretend._

Nilesy, staring down into his face, winked at him. Some of the panic settled out of Rythian's blood, although he kept squirming, just for the look of the thing. Sparks were starting to skitter in his lungs, and he used the discomfort to inform his movements.

"Then say it," Nilesy said, "like I _told_ you."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Rythian gasped in a few shallow breaths, biting his lip.

"It's . . . m-me or the—the robot," he stuttered out, his voice cracking. "Bring th-them to—"

Nilesy yanked on his hair again, and Rythian yelped.

 _"It!"_ he corrected, panicked. "Bring—bring _it_ to—to the w-warehouse where I—where I—"

"Where you drowned," Nilesy filled in sweetly, smiling at him.

Rythian took a shuddering breath, opening and closing his hands behind his back.

"You have . . . you have one hour," he said. The pain in his scalp was making it hard to concentrate. It was welling with warmth, sending it dribbling through his body like candle wax, pooling in his stomach. "Or—or . . . oh, God. . . ."

Nilesy shoved his head forward, relinquishing his hold on him, and Rythian slumped over himself. His head was spinning, and his body was starting to feel vague and distant. The warmth remained, and his skin was prickling.

"Or," Nilesy said, "I start drowning him again. Once every hour until I can't bring him back anymore." His voice dropped to a low and wicked purr. "And I've got _very_ good at getting the water back out of people's lungs."

Rythian shivered. It was not an unpleasant sensation.

"One hour," Nilesy reminded the camera. "But I don't mind if you're late. Honestly. He's just so much _fun."_

Without warning, an ungloved hand fisted in his hair as another clasped around his neck, and Nilesy hauled his head back and kissed him on the mouth, rough and passionate. Rythian froze up, strung out between pleasure and terror, until Nilesy shoved him away again and he was left hunched over and stunned.

"Actually," Nilesy said, somewhat breathlessly. _"Please_ be late."

Rythian felt him move away, and heard the phone beep. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts, but the kiss had left him reeling, aching for more.

"There," said Nilesy, his voice back to normal. "I think that'll do. We'll just send that off when we've got everything else together. You did say you've got the robot's number, didn't you?"

Rythian didn't answer, struggling just to breathe right. He felt like he was floating, threatening to drift off into eternity.

"Rythian?" Nilesy asked, concerned.

"I'm—I'm fine," he managed, although his voice sounded thin even to him. He twisted his wrists again—the pressure of the ropes was grounding, in an odd way, keeping him tethered to his body. A small spark leapt across his lung and he barely felt it.

Nilesy knelt at his feet, putting his gloves back on. He took the respirator out from under the chair and slipped it back over Rythian's face. Rythian shivered again, the touch of cold rubber making flowers of warmth bloom under his skin.

"You're sure?" Nilesy asked. "D'you need me to untie you? I think what we've got is fine, no need to keep on—"

"No," said Rythian, shaking his head. He flexed his hands, letting the ropes squeeze his wrists. "No, it's . . . it's fine. It's—good."

Nilesy paused, then sat back on his heels and folded his arms.

"Rythian," he said approvingly. "I never would've guessed."

Rythian blushed so hotly it was a wonder he didn't combust.

"It's not _like_ that," he mumbled, although it most certainly was.

"Oh, well, my mistake," said Nilesy. "Good news is we'll most likely never have to do this again, so that'll be nice. Never being tied to a chair and roughed up a bit again. No more being taken by the throat and kissed 'til you can't breathe. Lucky you, it sounds horrendous, good thing it'll never happen again."

 _"Shut_ up," Rythian whined, wishing he could bury his face in his hands.

"No, no, I'm perfectly serious. Silly of me to even think you'd enjoy something like that, just because _I'd_ get a kick out of having it done to _me."_

Rythian's blood started flowing the other way, and his eyes got very wide, and he swallowed heavily. Nilesy laughed at him and got to his feet.

"Oh, Jesus, you're so vanilla it hurts," he remarked affectionately. He then added in a much less wholesome tone, "Which I'm on board with."

"Oh my God, stop," Rythian said, squirming with embarrassment. Nilesy snorted and ruffled his hair.

"All right, I'll quit offending your delicate sensibilities. D'you want me to untie you or not?"

"Yes, please," Rythian mumbled. Nilesy knelt behind him and started undoing the knots.

"D'you know," he mused, "considering everything, I think we've technically just made porn."

"You are _literally_ the worst person I have _ever_ met!" Rythian cried, his skin burning.

Nilesy just laughed.

 


	28. Chapter 27

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

They'd come home and washed the fake bruises off of Rythian's face and neck, using a damp washcloth and Nilesy's sink. Rythian had done most of it himself, because every time Nilesy touched him he felt like he was going to come apart at the seams. Nilesy had left him to it with a chaste kiss on the cheek that had made Rythian's face glow.

The rest of the evening had passed normally—dinner and video games and idle chatter. Rythian found himself completely unable to enjoy any of it, because he kept catching Nilesy looking at him and it kept making his skin burn with something between embarrassment and—well.

He was definitely _not_ going to think about what _else_ was causing him to flush.

Around ten, Panda had gone to bed, and Zylus and Lomadia had taken up battling each other in some kind of space-shooter game. Nilesy had curled up next to Rythian, leaning heavily on him, their arms linked, their fingers intertwined. It was, all things considered, a pleasant way to pass an evening.

Eventually, however, Zylus and Lomadia finished their game, and Zylus started packing up the console. Nilesy kissed the corner of Rythian's jaw and disentangled himself.

"Think I'm off to bed," he said, getting to his feet and stretching. He leaned over and kissed Lomadia. "Good hunting, dear."

"Good hunting," she replied.

Nilesy turned to go, then hesitated. He looked over at Rythian, a little smile playing over his lips.

"You must be pretty goddamn tired of sleeping on that couch by now," he said. "Plenty of better places to sleep round here. _Much_ better, all things considered."

He winked, and sauntered off to his room. The door clicked closed behind him, and for a moment there was silence.

Rythian found that the other two were staring at him. He fidgeted.

"What?" he said, somewhat defensively.

 _"Go,"_ Zylus prompted, gesturing to Nilesy's door.

A blush rose to Rythian's cheeks. "But—no, that's not—how would you even—"

"I'm ashe, not fucking _blind,"_ Zylus said. "Now if you'll exshcushe me, I'm going to go shomewhere with noishe-canshelling headphonesh."

Rythian's throat locked up, and he didn't manage to say anything at all as Zylus went to his room and shut himself inside.

"That's—that's not—" Rythian stammered, looking to Lomadia in terror. She was smiling down at him as though he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she said. "But he _really_ wants you to."

"Um. Um, and you're . . . you're _okay_ with that?" Rythian said, hyper-aware of the fact that he was within reach of her claws.

"Of course," she said. "It's really cute. He really likes you."

Rythian rubbed the back of his head, his flush deepening.

"Oh," he said, while his heart fluttered.

"You really like him, too, don't you."

"Um. Y-yes. I . . . yes."

A pair of soft wings nudged him in the back.

"So _go,"_ said Lomadia. "You'll be okay."

With a gulp, Rythian got unsteadily to his feet. He took a step towards Nilesy's door and hesitated.

"You're _sure—"_

The wings nudged him again, a little harder, making him stumble forwards.

"Yes," said Lomadia.

"Right," Rythian muttered. He took a deep breath, then said again, "Right."

Blushing and awkward, he crossed to Nilesy's door and put his hand on the knob, his skin burning and his spine tingling.

"Rythian," said Lomadia.

He turned, nervous, his hand still resting on the doorknob, wondering if this was when the death threats would come in. "Um . . . yes?"

"He really likes neck biting," she said.

 _"What?"_ Rythian squeaked, flushing so hotly it must have been melting the plastic of his respirator.

Lomadia smiled. "Have fun," she said, and hopped down off the couch, and swept out the bay window and into the night.

Stunned, his heart pounding, Rythian turned himself around and slipped into Nilesy's room. He shut the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Took you fuckin' long enough," Nilesy said, standing at his bedside with his arms folded, smiling. "Thought maybe you weren't coming."

Rythian shrugged, still blushing profusely. "Wasn't sure I was supposed to," he mumbled, looking anywhere but at Nilesy. There was a whirring noise coming from somewhere, and he busied himself trying to find its source.

"No?" Nilesy asked, his voice lilting. "Shall I stop trying to be subtle, then?"

"I—well . . . well—" Rythian stammered.

In three quick strides, Nilesy crossed to him, and took his hands, and kissed him on the respirator, lingering. Rythian's heart turned a somersault and his breath stalled out in his lungs. A burst of static whited out his thoughts for a moment, tingling and pleasant. Nilesy settled back and met his eyes, smiling.

"Am I making myself clear now?" he asked softly.

Rythian was about to stutter out an awkward reply when he finally spotted the thing making the whirring noise. It was a little black machine by the bed, a short rectangle with a green light and what looked like a rain gauge on the front.

"Is that a dehumidifier?" he asked, baffled.

Nilesy glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah, that," he said. "Thought it might come in handy."

"In—for—you just _had_ that?"

"Came in yesterday," Nilesy said. "Good timing, turns out. Feels to me like it's working, but I've no idea if it's up to snuff. Care to test it?"

"S-sure, okay," said Rythian. There was a prickling in his sinuses that he was trying desperately to suppress, a swelling warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with embarrassment. He took his hands from Nilesy's and pulled off his respirator. Feeling Nilesy watching him, he took a deep breath. Only a few small sparks awoke in his lungs, and he nodded, absently licking his lips.

"Seems . . . okay," he said. He looked at the respirator, hefting it awkwardly. "Um. I-is there somewhere I can put this?"

Nilesy stood aside and gestured magnanimously towards the nightstand by his bed. "Anywhere you like, darling," he said.

"Stop," Rythian mumbled, ducking his head and shuffling over to the nightstand. He felt oddly naked without the respirator, vulnerable and exposed. He set it down, but stood for a moment afterwards, bracing himself on the nightstand and trying to collect his thoughts—some of them were trying desperately to run away with him, and in very unwise directions.

He realized his mistake moments too late, when Nilesy hopped up onto the bed and leaned back on his hands, kicking his bare feet and regarding Rythian coyly; he should never, _ever_ have let himself get this close to that bed, especially not with Nilesy looking at him like that. Those runaway thoughts were picking up considerable momentum.

Nilesy tipped his head to the side and frowned.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

"Y-yes, yeah, I'm—I'm fine, I'm good," said Rythian. His hands had started shaking, so he stuffed them in his pockets.

"If I'm making you uncomfortable, you _can_ just tell me to fuck off," Nilesy told him. "I can always stay in Lom's room, she doesn't mind. Not sleeping on that fucking couch again, though."

"N-no, it's not that, I'm just—" He shrugged, biting his lip. "I'm . . . nervous. I don't . . . it's been . . . I just don't want to fuck it up."

Nilesy snorted. "Don't worry, I've already fucked everything up in advance. Got it all out of the way beforehand. Like in those cooking shows. _Here's a fuck-up I made earlier, fresh out the oven."_

Despite himself, Rythian laughed, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. Nilesy grinned.

"Besides," he went on, "you seem to do just fine with kissing. Not a bad place to start, all things considered, and a fine place to end, if you'd like."

Rythian blinked, that prickling sensation rising in his sinuses again.

"Really?" he asked.

"Of course," said Nilesy, making a face. "Why wouldn't it be?" He paused, then added in a gentler tone, "You don't have to answer that, by the way."

Rythian's whole body lit up, his nerves singing, his heart light.

"I think . . . I think kissing sounds nice," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

Nilesy grinned. "At your convenience," he said.

Rythian took a deep breath and let it out again. He stood himself in front of Nilesy, and took his face in his hands, and kissed him. Nilesy made a quiet, pleased noise in the back of his throat and hooked his feet around Rythian's calves, his head tipped up, leaning back heavily on his hands. His skin was soft under Rythian's hands, his breath quick and warm, his lips and tongue still the sweetest things that Rythian had ever tasted. He pushed his hands back into Nilesy's hair, tangling his fingers in it, leaning further into the kiss. Nilesy took his hands off the bed to rest them on Rythian's hips, and slowly, inexorably, the two of them toppled over onto the bed, still kissing. Rythian pulled his knees up onto the bed, straddling Nilesy, and Nilesy scooted up to accommodate him, keeping their hips close together.

Time slid away, unimportant compared to the bliss of sensation, of push and pull and lips and tongue. At some point, Nilesy slipped his hands under the hem of Rythian's shirt and rested them against the bare skin of his sides. He broke the kiss into a series of little pecks on the lips, slowing its momentum until he could speak.

"This all right?" he asked.

"Yes," Rythian breathed, his lips tingling, his skin flushed.

"Oh, _goody,"_ said Nilesy, and went right back to kissing him.

At some point after that, both their shirts had come off, and Rythian's runaway thoughts had come running back, gleeful and _very_ excited. They had some ideas about how to proceed, and since Rythian had none of his own, he cautiously decided to implement them.

He got a hand on Nilesy's shoulder, and another on his hip, and kissed his way to his neck. Nilesy hummed in pleasure and tipped his head away, allowing easier access to his throat. Rythian kissed from the corner of his jaw to his collarbone and back again, luxuriating in the softness of his skin, the sweet little sounds that spilled from his mouth.

Carefully, nervously, Rythian parted his lips and took the tender flesh between his teeth.

The reaction was instantaneous and insanely gratifying. Nilesy's hands tightened in his hair and on his hip, his breath hitched, his back arched, pressing their bare chests together.

"Cheaters," he breathed. "Dirty rotten cheaters, the lot of them. Who told?"

"Um," said Rythian, hovering awkwardly at Nilesy's neck. "Lomadia."

"That tempestuous _strumpet,"_ Nilesy said. Casually, he kissed Rythian's temple, toying with the hair at the back of his neck. "Telling you all my weaknesses."

"Not _all,"_ said Rythian.

"You don't know that," Nilesy said. "Maybe I've only got the one."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, I s'pose you could _try_ and figure the rest out," Nilesy said. His other hand slid up to rest at the base of Rythian's spine, his fingers warm. Rythian shivered.

"Are there . . . many of them?" Rythian asked, sidling into this little game of words with his metaphorical elbows pinned to his sides.

"Oh, no no," Nilesy assured him. _"Excessively_ few. A person'd be hard-pressed to come up with any, unless they'd been given strategic hints at opportune moments."

Rythian pushed himself up and locked his elbows, regarding Nilesy dubiously.

"How long have you been planning this?" he demanded.

 _"Planning?"_ Nilesy asked, grinning. "No, no _planning_ involved. May have let some things slip on account of a bit of idle daydreaming, but there were no _plans."_

"Okay," said Rythian, narrowing his eyes, "then how long have you been _daydreaming_ about this?"

Nilesy's eyes darted, and to Rythian's surprise and utter delight, he blushed.

"Possibly as long as two months," he admitted.

"Two _months?"_

"Possibly. Not any longer than that. Well. Not any _serious_ thought any longer than that. You're very kissable, you know."

 _"Am_ I?" Rythian asked, grinning.

Nilesy trailed his hand around to cup Rythian's cheek, brushing the corner of his mouth with his thumb, utterly entranced.

"Now there's a rare sight," he murmured. "I don't know that I've ever seen you smile before."

The words leapt up from Rythian's memory, the right words to say, the only proper move in this little game.

"Yes you have," he said. "Plenty of times."

Nilesy grinned at him. "Not with your whole face, I haven't."

Rythian kissed his thumb. Nilesy pulled him down and kissed his lips. It was a sensation, Rythian thought, that he could never get tired of. Nonetheless, he made his way back to Nilesy's neck, kissing along his jaw and down the corded tendons. He bit him again, and again Nilesy's breath caught and his back arched. Rythian let the skin slide between his teeth, pulling away to find a new spot. Nilesy sighed.

"That's going to get _incredibly_ frustrating if you keep it up," he said, although there was a slight tremor in his voice. "If you're going to do it, do it right."

Rythian hesitated, his nerves making a full resurgence.

"Um . . . s-sorry, I—"

"Shush, you're fine," Nilesy said. "Could do you a demonstration, if you like."

"That," Rythian blurted, his pulse kicking up to a racing tempo. Nilesy laughed a low and throaty laugh and curled his fingers in Rythian's hair.

"There'll be a test," he said. "Take notes, darling."

The word flung up a whole swarm of sparks, and before Rythian had managed to think his way through them, Nilesy lifted his head and bit Rythian in the neck, _hard._

Rythian stiffened, startled by the pain and the sheer intensity of it. It was less a bite and more of a gnawing, suckling, teeth and lips and tongue and hot breath, clutching hands and rolling hips, and it left Rythian reeling. Nilesy lay back, letting his lips linger against the fresh bruise, breathless and grinning.

"You get all that?" he asked. "Or d'you think you need another lesson?"

A shiver ran down Rythian's spine. The bite was sore, hot underneath and cold at the surface, tingling. He had an urge to reach up and touch it, to make sure he wasn't bleeding anywhere.

"I . . . think I got it," he said.

 _"Ex-_ cellent," Nilesy said. "Go on then. Pop quiz."

Rythian hesitated.

"If you hurt me, I promise to punch you in the back of the head," Nilesy said. "But you're not going to hurt me."

"Okay," said Rythian, although he wasn't certain. It had hurt an _awful_ lot, and his neck was still sore from it.

Nilesy twirled a strand of Rythian's hair around his finger and leaned up to murmur in his ear.

"Unless you'd _like_ to hurt me," he offered.

For a moment, Rythian forgot how to breathe. Something awoke in his belly, something hot and restless and hungry, starved into hibernation but suddenly alert at the touch of spring. Without thinking, he bent his head to Nilesy's neck and bit him as hard as he could.

Nilesy gasped and clutched at Rythian's hair, his shoulder, pressing up against him, head thrown back and pulse racing under Rythian's lips. Rythian made it a whole fifteen seconds before he had to kiss him again—while making him squirm was satisfying, it was nowhere near as sweet as the taste of his lips.

There were, however, some _other_ things that bore figuring out.

Slowly, Rythian trailed his hand up Nilesy's chest and wrapped it, finger by finger, around his throat.

Nilesy's breath caught, and he put his hand on Rythian's wrist, gently restraining. By concerted effort, Rythian managed to stop kissing him, and sat up far enough to meet his eyes.

"Is this . . . okay?" he asked, nervous.

Nilesy smiled at him, the expression languorous.

"This," he said, and tapped Rythian's wrist twice, "means stop."

Swallowing, Rythian nodded. His heart was beating so fast it was libel to come out of his chest. Every word that came out of Nilesy's mouth dripped onto his consciousness like hot oil.

Nilesy's smile widened.

"Otherwise," he purred, "you don't have to stop."

 _Oh dear God,_ Rythian thought, flushing all over, a dull ache rising between his legs. It didn't help that Nilesy was still holding his gaze, eyes glittering with amusement, cheeks flushed and lips red.

"So you . . . weren't kidding," Rythian managed thinly. "About . . . enjoying it."

The smile cracked open into a grin.

"You're so fucking vanilla," he said affectionately.

"Shut up," Rythian whined, fidgeting.

 _"Make me,"_ Nilesy returned.

Rythian tightened his hand on his throat, and Nilesy's eyes rolled back in his head, his back arched. He dug his fingers into Rythian's wrist and back, a quiet moan fluttering between his parted lips. The heat under Rythian's skin kicked up a notch, and sparks burst in his chest to scurry along his nerves, and the ache was growing unbearable.

And then Nilesy murmured, "Harder."

Whatever had been holding Rythian together came flying apart, and in addled desperation he fell to kissing Nilesy again, digging his fingers into his side. He squeezed his throat as hard as he could, and Nilesy _writhed,_ and it was _incredible,_ and it was all Rythian could do to keep from tearing the rest of his clothes off right then and there.

Just as Rythian's hand was starting to ache and Nilesy's kisses grew weak and clumsy—which was fine by Rythian, because he was doing something amazing with his hips—there came a sharp pair of taps on Rythian's wrist, and he released his grip.

The first sound that came out of Nilesy's mouth was a high and needy whimper, followed by a desperate gasp, and then he was kissing Rythian with such fervor that it clacked their teeth together, and the hand on Rythian's back moved to grab the waistband of his trousers, fingers brushing hot skin. Rythian held him down and moved to biting his neck again, as hard as he'd been told, and Nilesy whimpered again, bridging up against him and tangling a hand in his hair, yanking sharply on his waistband.

 _"Christ_ I want you," he moaned, his voice rusty and hoarse. Rythian's blood caught fire in his veins, and his hands couldn't get to Nilesy's trousers fast enough.

The rest of the night passed very pleasantly indeed.

 


	29. Chapter 28

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Lalna pushed open the door to Xephos's office without knocking. They had been perfectly calm all the way there, but absolutely unshakeable in their determination to have things out with Xephos. It was eight o'clock in the evening and the building was quiet, but Xephos was still there, sitting behind his desk with his glasses low on his nose. He looked up as Lalna came in, Nano following close behind them.

"Ah," he said mildly. "So it's come to this."

"Why did you delete my memories?" Lalna asked, standing military-straight and gazing down at Xephos with their eyes set to a cool blue.

Xephos sighed and turned away from his computer to face the two of them. "Sit down, please, the both of you."

"Oh, like hell," Nano said. "This isn't a goddamn _meeting,_ Xephos."

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. _"If_ we are going to do this," he said icily, "we are going to do it _civilly._ I doubt you would like to see what uncivil looks like on me, Dr. Sounds."

"You will not hurt her," Lalna said, their fists clenching at their sides. Xephos waved a dismissive hand.

"Of course I won't, Lalna, don't be silly. Please, sit _down._ I will answer any questions you have, but I will _not_ —and I must emphasize this—I will _not_ be threatened. We will discuss this like rational adults or we will not discuss it at all."

Lalna stood for a long moment, then slipped into their dedicated chair in front of Xephos's desk. He smiled at them.

"Thank you," he said, and looked to Nano. "Dr. Sounds?"

She fumed, gritting her teeth, but eventually forced herself to sit down as well.

 _"Ex-_ cellent," said Xephos. He steepled his fingers and regarded the two of them seriously. "Now. What seems to be the problem?"

"You deleted several of my memories," Lalna said.

"Yes," Xephos allowed. "They had distressed you unduly the first time round, and I had no wish for them to do so again."

"You said those files were corrupted," Nano said, jabbing a finger at him. "You said you had to delete them because it would cause another systems crash!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe I said nothing about _memory files_ being corrupted. I mentioned that some of Lalna's code had been corrupted, certainly, and the deletions were absolutely essential to preventing another crash, but any perceived _connection_ between those two facts was purely in your own imagination, Dr. Sounds."

"What happened at the end of that training session, then?" she demanded. "What was so goddamn _upsetting_ about that?"

"I believe I told you before, Lalna failed—"

"To do _what?"_ Nano cut him off.

Xephos was quiet for a moment. He looked over at Lalna.

"Would you like to know, Lalna?" he asked. "It may distress you."

Their eyes shaded up to orange, then back down to blue. They nodded. "Tell me."

"I designed a scenario in which Nilesy and Rythian had joined forces," Xephos said.

"You _what?"_

"Please don't make me repeat myself, Dr. Sounds, I do so detest it."

"Yes," said Lalna. "I remember that. I thought it was unrealistic, but I did not fail to dispatch either of the targets."

"Ahah, well, if Dr. Sounds would let me _finish,"_ Xephos said, his voice barbed. "The simulation concluded with the added stipulation that Nano had joined the both of them as well."

 _"What?"_ Nano cried, leaping from her seat, her blood boiling. "Why the _fuck_ would you do something like that? What—what bloody _purpose_ could that possibly—"

"Dr. Sounds, please sit down," said Xephos.

"No! No, I will _not_ fucking _sit down,_ you fucking maniac, why in the hell would you lump _me_ in with fucking _Nilesy?"_

"Based on current evidence," he said softly, his eyes glittering coldly, "it does not seem particularly far-fetched. Please sit _down,_ Dr. Sounds."

The temptation to put her fist through the desk was almost overwhelming. Seething, breathing heavily through her nose, she somehow managed to make herself sit down again.

"I do not understand," Lalna said. "That is upsetting, but I do not believe it would cause a systems crash. I am not unduly upset now."

"Of course you aren't," Xephos said. "It's quite different, hearing it second-hand rather than being there, experiencing it. Trust me, Lalna. It was a difficult time for you. What I did was for the best."

"Oh, bull- _shit,"_ Nano snapped.

Xephos fixed her with a look that made her face prickle. "Are you suggesting, Dr. Sounds, that _anything_ I have done for Lalna has been less than beneficial? He is my—"

Lalna moved so fast and so suddenly that all Nano saw was a silver blur. The next thing she knew, they were holding Xephos up by his throat, their MALaR primed, their eyes that glaring fire-engine red. The smell of burning flesh swelled out to fill the room. Xephos's eyes had gone wide as dinner plates, and his feet were kicking at his desk, scrabbling for purchase, only managing to bruise his shins.

 _"Lalna—"_ he choked.

"I am not a _he,"_ Lalna said, their voice deep and growling.

 _"Put me down!"_ Xephos gasped. His face was turning red, swelling with excess blood. Lalna shook him.

"I am _not_ a _he,"_ they repeated. There was a faint sizzling noise, smoke curling up thin and pale around Xephos's jaw.

_"Overr—hghk!"_

Whatever Xephos had been trying to say, it was strangled out of him as Lalna tightened their hand. Xephos kicked his desk hard enough to unbalance the monitor of his computer and send it toppling over. His face was slowly shifting from red to blue, his hands clawing at Lalna's wrist.

"Stop it!" Nano cried, shrinking back in her chair, sickened and terrified. "Lalna, stop, you're _killing_ him!"

"Yes," said Lalna. "And if he calls me a _he_ again, I will finish killing him."

They opened their hand, and Xephos dropped ungracefully, coughing and wheezing and half bent over his desk. There was a round patch of burned, blistered flesh just at the front of his throat where Lalna's MALaR had been touching his skin.

Lalna's eyes snapped back to professional blue, and they let their hand fall back to their side.

"This meeting is over now," they said, and turned on their heel, and left the room.

Nano stayed in her chair, shaking, while Xephos got his breath back and wiped the tears from his face. Slowly, he straightened up. There were red finger marks on his neck, which were already fading; the burn on his throat, too, was rapidly healing, shedding flakes of white skin. Xephos rubbed at the burn and made a face when his fingers came away sticky with pus.

"Could have gone better," he said hoarsely, and sighed.

"You—you—" Nano stammered. Xephos looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, and she rallied. "Serves you right," she snapped.

"I wasn't aware that I was committing a capital offense," he said.

"And did they kill you? No. Serves you _right."_

He smiled a slow lizard smile and straightened his glasses.

"Dr. Sounds," he said mildly, "I should have dearly liked to see him try."

 _"Bastard,"_ she spat at him. She heaved herself out of her chair and hurried off after Lalna, her skin burning.

"Always good to talk with you as well, Dr. Sounds," Xephos said.

The door clicked closed behind her, and she resisted the impulse to kick the nearest object. She stalked down the hall, fists clenched, muttering invectives under her breath, until she reached the elevator. Lalna was waiting for her, and in the face of their disconcerting calm, her anger evaporated like so much hot water.

"Um," she said. "Are you—are you, y'know. All right?"

Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"I am fine," they said. "Are _you_ all right?"

She was about to answer when the elevator arrived. The two of them stepped in together, and the elevator started up towards the ground floor.

"Lalna. . . ." Nano began, and hesitated.

"Yes?" they asked, placid and attentive.

She fidgeted. "Did you . . . did you mean it? About—killing him?"

They took a moment to answer, their eyes turning orange as they considered.

"No," they said eventually. "But I didn't think he would listen to anything else. In the past, he has not listened to me when I told him I was not a _he._ I wondered if he would listen to violence."

"Oh," said Nano. "Lalna, um . . . I'm not sure he did."

They shrugged. "Next time I will shoot his arm off. He will listen then."

Nano recoiled, pressing herself against the elevator wall.

"You'll _what?"_ she cried, unable to believe her ears.

"I will shoot his arm off," they repeated patiently, then tipped their head to the side. "You are upset."

"You can't just—you can't just _shoot_ his _arm_ off!"

"It will grow back," they pointed out.

"That's not the point!"

"I think it _is_ the point," said Lalna. "I think it will be extremely painful but not ultimately damaging, much like being called a _he_ when you are not one."

Nano opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again.

"Well," she said. "I guess . . . _well._ When you put it like that."

They nodded. "He is not stupid. Just very stubborn. Sooner or later he will learn."

"Lalna?" said Nano.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Nano," they said.

* * *

 

"I would like to find Rythian," said Lalna.

Nano looked up from her lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich that was doing its best to escape the confines of its bread. It had been two days since the confrontation with Xephos, and nothing of note had happened since. Lalna had been almost back to their old self—or perhaps entirely back to their old self, and it was just Nano's lingering nerves over their outburst that left her uneasy.

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes," said Lalna. "He has been gone a very long time and I miss him. If he is still not answering his phone, then we should find him. He may be in trouble."

Nano hesitated. She put down her disintegrating sandwich and wiped her hands.

"Lalna, I'm not sure that's the best idea," she said.

They tipped their head to the side. "Why not?"

"Just—well, just maybe . . . he doesn't want to be found. Maybe he's just . . . gone, Lalna. And maybe we should let him go."

For a moment, they considered this.

"No," they said. "He is probably afraid and lonely. We should find him and tell him that everything is okay and he can come home now."

Nano chewed her lip, then sighed. "All right," she said. "But . . . don't hang all your hopes on finding him, all right, Lal?"

"Okay," they said.

"Right," said Nano, frowning down at her sandwich. "So. Any idea where we should start looking? Apart from soggy cardboard boxes down back alleys."

"I do not think we would find him there," said Lalna.

"Joking, Lal, I was joking."

"I see," Lalna said seriously. "It wasn't funny."

"Sorry."

"I forgive you. I also think I have devised a method to find Rythian, or at least a point at which to start."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "Did he ever tell you who he was selling his Power to?"

* * *

 

_Who buys voltage?_

The question had hung in the air for a moment, like a cloud of smoke. Rythian had cleared his throat and shrugged.

"You know," he'd said. "People."

 _"People?_ As in, _multiple_ people?"

"Sure," said Rythian. "There's someone in every big city. Probably two or three, actually."

"Is electricity really that common of a Power?"

"Not really," he'd said. "But it's one of the easiest to sell, so a lot of people have the stuff to collect it."

"Okay," said Nano, "so who buys _your_ voltage?"

Rythian had shrugged again, blushing and not looking at her.

"His name's Tom," he'd said. "He's . . . okay. Not the worst."

"This _Tom_ have a last name?"

"I'm not ratting him out to you and your Division cronies," Rythian had snapped, and that had been the last he would say on the matter.

It was precious little to go on, but Nano and Lalna made headway nonetheless. Lalna reasoned that anyone who was buying voltage must have been re-selling it, and there must be some record of the transaction. Initially, Nano had thought Tom must be simply using it for himself, but Lalna had pointed out that an hour's worth of Rythian's voltage and presumed amperage could produce enough power to run a home for at least three months.

Once again, Nano found herself wondering: _who buys voltage?_

Lalna corrected her, in that what was really being bought and sold was power, and so she asked a different question.

"Who's going to buy their power from some seedy weirdo?"

"You don't know that he is seedy _or_ a weirdo," Lalna pointed out.

"He's a black-market Power trader," Nano said. "Of _course_ he's seedy and weird."

At that point, it became a simple game of _follow the money._ If Tom was selling power, he must have been selling it _to_ someone. Multiple someones, in fact, and he must have been able to do it a good deal cheaper than the real power companies.

Eventually they found him by looking around for people who didn't pay normal power bills. There were three dozen of them, at least, most in the St Paul's area, including a run-down pub that hadn't paid an electricity bill in three years. The trail stalled there for a moment until Lalna hacked into a few bank accounts and found a number of payments to a _Thomas Angor._

"Think that's our black-market entrepreneur?" Nano asked.

"It seems very likely," said Lalna.

"Why don't we look him up, then? Just to find out."

As it turned out, Mr. Thomas Angor lived directly underneath that suspiciously cheap-running pub. His address was listed as such, anyway, although Lalna could find no record of rent payments.

"Check to see if that pub's been paying our Mr. Angor," Nano suggested.

Lalna checked. "There's no record of a transaction," they reported.

"Well, there you have it. He pays his rent in electricity."

"I see," said Lalna. "That is an unorthodox currency."

"You're telling me," Nano muttered, rolling her eyes.

In the end, both of them decided that Nano would have to pay her visit to Thomas Angor alone. There was still plenty of uproar over the _Joule's_ incident, and it wasn't safe for Lalna to be outside. Besides that, bringing them along might spook the man into running off, which wasn't at all what they needed. He'd been hard enough to find the first time around.

"Please be careful," Lalna said, as Nano patted her pockets to make sure she had everything she needed.

"I will," she promised. "You be careful too, all right?"

They nodded. "Okay. I will probably make cookies while you are gone."

"Don't burn the house down," she said, smiling.

"Okay," they said again, and gave her a thumbs-up.

"See you soon, Lal," she said.

"Good luck," they responded.

She saluted and headed out, nervous already.

"I'll need it," she muttered.

* * *

 

The little pub was closed this early in the afternoon. Nano came up to the front door and knocked anyway, because she could see someone bustling about inside.

A middle-aged woman, her graying blonde hair pulled into a loose bun, opened the door and stuck her head out. She was wearing a flower-patterned dress and low, practical heels.

"We don't open 'til four, sorry," she said.

"Um," said Nano, "I'm actually . . . here for—to see Tom."

"Oh?" said the woman. "What for?"

"Is it important?"

"A bit, yeah," she answered bluntly.

Nano fidgeted. _I've got a couple questions for him_ sounded like something a cop would say, and she was fairly certain it wouldn't get her anywhere.

"I'm . . . a customer," she lied instead.

"Yeah? You must be new, then. I'm Minty." And she stuck out a hand.

Nano shook it, finding Minty's grip to be startlingly strong.

"Er, Nano," she said.

"Well, come on in." She stood aside, holding the door open, and Nano came in.

The pub was dim, but clean. Monster heads hung on the walls, from plastic hydras to polyester werewolves, and all the tables and chairs had clawed feet.

"Tom's down in the basement," Minty went on, gesturing to a door at the back of the pub marked _Private._ "He can be a bit off-putting at first, but he's mainly harmless. I've got a shotgun under the bar, so if he gives you any trouble, let me know, and I'll have his head up on the wall by morning."

Nano blinked at her, taken aback.

"O-okay," she said. On their own, her eyes made a quick survey of the walls, searching for real heads. "Thanks."

"My pleasure. If you need anything, just yell."

"Right," said Nano. Minty went off to the bar, and Nano headed for the back door.

Behind it was a dim stairwell, lit only by red emergency lights. A thick, herbaceous smell wafted up from below, growing stronger with every step. It made Nano's head feel stuffy. She pushed through the bead curtain at the bottom of the stairs and stopped, taking in her surroundings.

The basement room was mainly illuminated by neon beer signs hanging on the walls. The carpet was thick and plush, the only furniture to be seen was a strewn mass of bean bag chairs. There were cracks in the walls and water stains on the ceiling and a large television, currently playing an American documentary about insects. A man, likely in his early forties, was sprawled out on one of the bean bags, watching the documentary and chuckling to himself. He was smoking something that was almost certainly not a cigarette.

Nano cleared her throat and folded her arms. "Excuse me," she said.

"Oop," said the man, hurriedly stubbing out his not-a-cigarette and clambering to his feet. He was wearing only a dirty white t-shirt, a misshapen gray beanie, and polka-dot boxers, and when he turned to face her, she had to resist the impulse to shut her eyes.

"Hello," he went on. "You haven't got an appointment, have you? Only I could've sworn I'd got the afternoon off. . . ."

"No," she said, her voice clipped. "I haven't got an appointment."

"Right, okay," he said, and scratched at his stubbly beard. "Well, what've you got?"

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

He gestured to her. "Powers. What've you got?"

"None of your business," she said. "I'm looking for information, that's _it."_

Tom—for it must have been him—hissed in a breath through his yellowed teeth and squinted. "Ooh, yeah, 'fraid that's gonna cost you quite a bit. I could _maaaybe_ knock down the price if you had something to give in return. . . ."

"No," she said coldly. "Unless you've got someone who buys acid slime."

He brightened. "Actually, there's a pretty good market for that stuff. Chemists and all. Bit expensive on the processing and purification side, but I could get you up to, oh, maybe ten pence per gram, depending on what sort of acid it is. You wouldn't happen to know—"

"I'm _not selling,"_ she interrupted. Her skin was crawling at the thought of raffling off her bodily fluids. She wondered how Rythian had ever managed to sell any part of himself, to anyone.

And Tom wasn't even the worst, apparently.

"Sure?" Tom asked. "Only I haven't got anybody with chemical stuff coming in at the mo, it'd really open up some ventures."

"Just. Information," said Nano.

Tom sighed heavily. "All _right,"_ he said. "What sort of information? Only if you're poking about trying to nick someone on sales, you'll have to look somewhere else."

"I'm not," said Nano. "And what're you charging?"

"Hmmm," said Tom, and scratched his beard again. "Fifty pounds a question."

 _"What?"_ she cried. "That's _ridiculous!"_

"Well, you haven't got to ask then, have you," he said.

She fumed for a moment, fists clenched at her sides, then spat, "Fine."

"Goody," said Tom. "Ask away."

"Have you," she said, choosing her words carefully, "seen Rythian in the past three weeks?"

"Who?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't fucking _start_ with me," she snarled, jabbing a finger at him. "He's gone missing, and if you've heard so much as a fucking _peep_ from him, you're damn well going to tell me or—"

"Or?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

She let out a slow breath through her nose.

"Please," she said, gritting her teeth. "I just want to know if you've seen him. At all. Because he's my friend and I'm worried about him."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Tom asked. "He did mention something about rent a few months back. Dropped off the grid for a while, thought I'd lost him."

"But _have_ you seen him in the past three weeks?"

"Mmm, yeah," he admitted. "Yeah, he was in a couple days ago. Needed cash _desperately._ Not sure what for, he's never been super talkative."

"He's okay?" she asked, the words squeaking past the sudden lump in her throat.

"Last I saw," said Tom. "Well, yeah, okay as he ever is. There something going on I should know about? Anything you can tell me about him. Super helpful."

"Why d'you need to know?" she asked, suspicious.

"Oh, no reason," he said, shrugging. "Just curious, really. Only curious. Cuts a mysterious figure, does our Rythian. Sort of dashing. Tall, dark, and handsome sort of thing going on. But maybe he's just shy." He sighed.

"What the _fuck_ are you on about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Anything else you needed? Sure I can't talk you into selling a bit of slime? Could do with the business."

"No. Do you know where he _is?"_

"Nope," said Tom. "Like I said. Not super talkative. But he really was desperate for cash, so I imagine I'll be seeing him again. Probably quite soon, actually, which is all right for me. I do get to missing him so."

"You are, honest to God, the most repulsive human being I have ever met," Nano declared.

Tom pressed a hand to his chest and grinned. "Why, little old me? Aw, thanks, you're super."

"And you've got _no idea_ where he's staying? Or what he needs all this cash _for?"_

"Not a one. Sorry. I don't ask too many questions, it's bad for business, you know."

"Of course. Well, if that's all the help you're going to be, I guess we're done here."

"Yeah? All right," said Tom. "That'll be four hundred pounds."

She stared at him.

"Oh, _fuck_ you," she said.

"Sure I can't interest you in the sale of a bit of slime?" Tom asked, his voice hopeful.

"I think you've got _plenty_ of that already."

"Oh, owie, right where it hurts," he said, draping the back of his hand across his forehead. "I take credit, debit, and cash."

With her jaw clenched so hard it made her teeth ache, Nano took out her wallet.

 


	30. Chapter 29

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Money had been tight, and Rythian was aiming to fix that.

He hadn't told anyone, precisely, where he was going; just asked to borrow Nilesy's keys and headed out, much as it pained him to leave the other man half-asleep and half-naked in bed. It'd been one of Panda's nights, and the mess of bruises on Nilesy's neck and chest and shoulders had been less jealousy-inducing than flat-out _tempting._

Rythian had managed to leave anyway, somehow or other, although it had taken some time.

No one had mentioned the money situation to Rythian directly, and certainly there had been no discussion of whether or not he was obligated to chip in, but he'd taken it upon himself anyway. Rent was coming due, he gathered, along with a whole host of other bills. The exorbitant price of Panda's medication, obtained black-market from someone who didn't need full names written down, had come up at least twice in the past week (although never when Panda was around to hear it). There had also been a fair amount of frustration over the delay in their plans, since villainous materials were rather lower on the priority list than food.

Since he'd been living there for a month, Rythian had decided it was time to pay rent.

Descending the stairs to Tom's basement lair, the smell of marijuana smoke burrowed into his sinuses and stuck there, more offensive than he remembered. He could hear Tom's voice from below, and as he pushed through the bead curtain, he found that he had walked in on a conversation.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, soon as I can spare the capital," Tom was saying into his phone. He was barefoot, pacing in front of the wide-screen TV, but was wearing jeans and a clean t-shirt, as though he'd been out in public recently. "People aren't cheap to find, you know, especially if YogLabs has been at them."

Rythian took off his jacket and his shoes and his belts, folded his arms, and waited to be noticed.

"Not as though business has been booming, either," Tom sighed. "My power cell's almost run out and half my source has fucked off to God knows where, so I'm limping pretty hard as it is—"

Rythian cleared his throat. Tom turned on a dime, and his face lit up like Christmas morning.

"Well, speak of the devil!" he said. "Sorry, Tusks, I'll have to call you back. I've got an appointment."

He hung up, stuffed the phone in his pocket, and stretched his arms wide out to the sides, grinning.

"Sparky!" he effused. "Long time, no see! Here I was, thinking you'd run off on me."

"Yes, well, I haven't," Rythian said, his hackles raised.

"And isn't that grand! How've you been? I've missed having you round."

"We're not friends," he snapped.

Tom blinked at him, then stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "Right," he said. "Okay. I see how it is. I s'pose we can be all business about this, if we must."

"We must," said Rythian.

Tom shrugged and started off towards the back room. "How long d'you want for this one?"

Trailing along behind him, Rythian chewed his lip. He'd worked out what he thought was an appropriate number on the way over, but it was not a pretty figure.

"Three hours," he said.

Tom stopped in his tracks and turned to face him, his thick brows knitted together.

"No way," he said. "Two's the most I'll go, and even _that's_ a bit much. You need more than that, you'll have to come back next week."

Clenching his jaw, Rythian said, "I need it _now."_

"Won't do you much good if you're dead," Tom said. "Two hours or nothing. I'll float you an advance on next time, though, if you really need the cash that bad."

Rythian swallowed and looked away. "Fine," he said.

"Super," said Tom. He started off towards the back room again. "Four-fifty for sesh, then."

They went through the motions of preparation—Rythian lying down on the bed, Tom pulling on his gloves and opening the little box on the wall, prodding at the buttons inside.

"Could make it an even thou," Tom mused, fiddling with the control panel, "if you throw in a bang."

Rythian froze up. His jaw locked, his heart skipped every other beat, his stomach twisted into a Gordian knot. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, unblinking, tension winding him so tight he thought he might snap.

It was an awful _lot_ of cash.

"Twelve hundred," he blurted, his voice cracking, fists clenched on the sheets.

Tom turned slowly. Rythian could only see him in his peripheral vision, couldn't read his facial expression. He saw him take off the beanie and run a hand back over his balding head, his stringy hair. Rythian swallowed, fighting to keep his face from showing the disgust and horror swirling in his guts.

"Oh, Sparks, baby," Tom said softly. "I wasn't _serious."_

"I am," Rythian said. He was shaking all over, like he'd been left out in the cold for hours on end.

"Jesus, Sparky, what's got you so hard up for cash?" Tom asked.

"None of your fucking business," Rythian retorted. "Are we doing this or not?"

Tom was quiet for a long moment, while Rythian shivered like a wine glass in an earthquake, on the verge of shattering.

"Let's get you hooked up," Tom said at last.

"For fuck's _sake—"_ Rythian cried, his voice cracking, tears welling in his eyes.

"Shush," said Tom. He came over to the bedside, wearing his thick rubber gloves and holding his bare copper wire. "Hand, please."

Rythian shut his eyes and held out his hand. He hardly noticed as Tom finished hooking him up to whatever machine resided behind the wall—all he could think about was how exhausted, how aching and weak and _helpless_ he would be afterwards, how no matter what he wouldn't be able to fight, how that was probably the entire point. He couldn't make himself stop crying, couldn't quell the shaking from his body. The machine began to suck the energy out of him, making it difficult to breathe. Tom put a gloved hand on his forehead and he flinched.

"You want me to stay?" he asked.

Unable to force any words out of his constricted throat, Rythian just shook his head.

"All right," said Tom. "See you in a couple hours, Sparky. Hang in there, yeah?"

Rythian did not, could not, respond, and so Tom left without a further word exchanged.

* * *

 

It was the longest two hours of his life, lying there shivering in the half-light, tears trickling into his ears while Tom's machine siphoned the life out of him, spark by spark. By the end, he was only half-conscious, aching right down to his bones and struggling to breathe, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing anyway—the less aware he was, the better.

The less he would remember, the better.

When Tom came in, his heart tried to leap clean out of his body, his guts coiled together in a mad scramble to claw their way out through his throat. He shut his eyes, hands clenched as tight as they could be on the wires. Tom uncurled his fingers without much effort, unwound the wires from around his hands. There was hardly any relief, even when the machine stopped sucking his Power out—he was already hurting so much, already so frightened and sick that it hardly mattered.

A pair of bare hands, calloused and warm, rested on his cheeks, cupping his face. A sob burst through his lips despite his efforts to hold it in.

Tom pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, gentle and soft.

"Bang," he murmured.

Next thing Rythian knew, he was being helped out of the bed, one of his arms draped over Tom's shoulders. Dizzy and disoriented, he found himself guided to the door, helped back into his jacket and his shoes and his belts, a neat roll of bills pressed into his shaking hand.

"Next time let's just leave it at the volts, right, Sparky?" Tom said, smiling at him. "I'm rich, but I'm not _that_ rich. Got a business to run, can't afford to indulge every time."

"Wh—what?" Rythian croaked. There must have been something he'd missed, something he'd already blocked out of his mind because it was too horrible to recall. Amongst all the other aches and pains and dizziness and nausea, would he even have noticed anything else?

"Seven-fifty for a little kiss is a bit rich for my blood," Tom said. "Want a ride home? You don't look too good."

"No, I—no, what—you . . . you're. . . ."

"I'm an ass, Sparks," Tom said gently. "Not a bastard."

Rythian struggled to pull Tom's face into focus. His expression was pained, pitying.

"You. . . ." he mumbled, lips numb.

"Be happy to give you that ride home," he offered. "If you want."

His brain was scrambled, his insides still tangled, but he managed to answer.

"Y-yeah," he said. "Just—can't tell. Can't tell where it's. . . . The thing. You can't."

Tom patted his shoulder.

"Gotcha, buddy," he said.

Together, the two of them lumbered up the steps, Rythian's head lolling against Tom's arm.

* * *

 

Rythian had Tom drop him at the entrance to the apartment complex and made it the rest of the way on his own. It was late afternoon, and he must have looked a sight, stumbling muzzy-headed through the car park, leaning against the walls of the buildings for support. At worst, anyone who saw would think he was just an unfortunate drunk.

Nothing new about that.

He impacted against the door of Number 306, slapped his hand against the wood once, and slid bonelessly to the ground. His head was spinning, and he still wasn't quite sure what had or hadn't happened. He hurt. He was exhausted. It would be nice to just pass out there, and maybe someone would retrieve him in the morning. . . .

The door opened, and Rythian made out Zylus staring down at him in open-mouthed shock.

"Jeshush _Chrisht,_ what the hell _happened_ to you?" he exclaimed. Before Rythian could even attempt to answer, he'd knelt down and scooped Rythian into his arms, not even making a pretense of getting him to his feet. He heaved him up and carried him to the couch, then laid him down on it.

"Nileshy!" he called.

"No—no," Rythian mumbled, trying to pat his arm. Zylus took both his wrists and firmly folded his hands over his stomach.

 _"Careful,"_ he said.

Nilesy showed up, and Rythian felt himself blushing, his insides squirming with guilt.

"Holy God, what's happened to him?" Nilesy asked. "Is he all right?"

"Can't tell," Zylus said. "It'sh a messh in there. Whatever happened, it'sh shcrambled hish brainsh pretty good."

"'M fine," Rythian said. The words caught on something in his chest and made his breath hitch, and the next thing he knew he was sobbing, cradled in someone's arms and clutching their shirt in weak fingers.

"Nileshy, shtart shome tea, would you?" Zylus asked softly, his voice close to Rythian's ear.

"Y-yeah," Nilesy said. "Right. Yeah, got it."

"Don't—don't—" Rythian stammered, shaking his head.

 _Don't tell him,_ he thought, _please don't tell him, I can't, I can't. . . ._

"Shh, it'sh all right," Zylus said, stroking the back of his head. "It'sh all right. You don't have to."

He choked out some more choppy words, slurred over muzzy thoughts. He didn't even know what had happened, _if_ anything had happened, he'd been so tired and so disoriented and so afraid, he just couldn't _remember_ any of it.

"Eashy, eashy. You don't have to think about it right now. It'll come back to you. We'll get you shome tea and shomething to eat, you can shleep, we'll figure thish out. It'sh all right, Rythian. We've got you."

Rythian sobbed again, and time went slippery and the world got dark. When next he came around, he was curled up in someone's lap, and there was the smell of asphalt and brick.

"He'sh awake," Zylus said.

At the words, Rythian tried to make himself sit up. Hearing them had made it abundantly clear, even to his addled senses, that the lap he was curled up in was not Zylus's.

A pair of strong hands helped him to get upright, and something soft and feathery brushed against his shoulder.

"There's tea," Lomadia said, keeping her hands on his shoulders to hold him upright.

"Is he all right?" Nilesy asked, his voice wound tight with worry.

"Shush," Lomadia said. "Go get his other clothes."

"But—" he began, and cut off suddenly. After a beat of silence, he said, "Yes, dear."

There was the sound of a door closing. Rythian realized that he'd had his eyes shut and forced himself to open them.

Most of what he saw was tawny wings, folded around him like a little tent. Lomadia was in there with him, huge round eyes regarding him calmly.

"There's tea," she said again. "You don't have to have any if you don't want."

With half his fear smothered under sheer exhaustion, Rythian nodded.

"Tea sounds . . . nice," he said, surprised at how hoarsely his voice came out.

The tented wings unfurled, opening the rest of the room to Rythian. Zylus came over and handed him a warm cup of tea—not hot, clearly it had been sitting for some time. Panda was in the armchair with his legs folded up underneath him, working on a laptop perched on the arm of the chair. Nilesy was nowhere to be seen, but there were noises coming from Lomadia's room.

Rythian peeled his mask off and took a sip of the tea. Lomadia still had her hands on his shoulders, but he wasn't terribly bothered, considering that it was keeping him from swaying quite so much. The more he drank, the clearer his head became. At first, he shied away from recollection, terrified of what he might find—but as clarity returned, the facts of the matter brushed the weight of dread off his shoulders.

Nothing had happened. Tom had just given him his cash and let him go.

Rythian chose not to think about his own role in the events. It wouldn't be helpful. Instead, he fished in his pockets until he found the neat roll of bills and held it out to Zylus, who had sat down on the couch next to Rythian and was reading over Panda's shoulder.

"What'sh thish?" Zylus asked, looking down at the cash with one eyebrow raised, making no move to take it.

"Rent," said Rythian.

Panda looked up sharply. "Where'd you get—holy _shit_ that's a lot of cash!"

"It's only. . . ." Rythian began, and then looked down at the money in his hand. It was, in fact, a _lot_ of cash.

Gingerly, Zylus took the roll of bills from him. He stripped the rubber band from around it and unrolled the money, thumbing through it.

 _"Only?"_ he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is that—it's not . . . it wouldn't be, like . . . a thousand?" Rythian said. He felt like he might need to lie down.

"Twelve hundred," said Zylus. "Dare I ashk where thish came from?"

Rythian fidgeted, and sighed, and put his respirator back on. He was on the verge of telling them the whole story when Lomadia's door opened and Nilesy slipped out, carrying a folded bundle of clothes. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Rythian, his face drawn with concern.

"Hallo, you," he said faintly.

"Hi," said Rythian. "I'm . . . I'm okay."

"Yeah?" said Nilesy, brightening considerably. "Well thank _God_ for that. I've—just, y'know, by the way—I've got some of your other clothes, if you want to have a shower or anything. Not that you'd—"

"That would be . . . nice, yeah," said Rythian. The smell of weed was still clinging to him, he was sure, and despite knowing that nothing untoward had happened, he still didn't want to be reminded of the past few hours.

Zylus rolled the bills back up and wrapped the rubber band around them, then handed them back to Rythian.

"Want me to exshplain?" he asked.

Rythian hesitated, then shook his head. "No, I—I will. Explain. Um. Is there anything to eat?"

In the end, Panda gave him some fruit snacks and Zylus made him another cup of tea, and between that and the long, hot shower that came after, he was feeling almost human.

He told them everything, every last detail, and even managed to laugh about it.

* * *

 

Eventually, all the pieces fell into place, and the time came to put their plan into action.

Zylus and Panda had spent the morning putting the glass room together. They used the warehouse where the fateful confrontation between Rythian and Nilesy had occurred, apparently because the drains in the floor were better equipped for the volume of water Nilesy thought he would need.

Rythian had spent an uncommonly passionate night with Nilesy beforehand. That morning was spent hiding the bruises on Nilesy's neck and augmenting the ones on Rythian's. Panda had seemed oddly cheerful throughout the whole thing, intent upon his work and not throwing a single dirty glance.

By the time they got around to tying Rythian to the chair inside the glass room, he was feeling decidedly nervous.

"You're sure they'll find us?" Rythian asked, while Nilesy secured his wrists with thick rope. "We said it was a different warehouse."

Nilesy sighed. "Honestly, Rythian, it's not as though anything happens if they're _late."_

"Oh," said Rythian. "Right."

"It'll be _fine,"_ he assured him. With a swift series of clicks, a pair of cold metal cuffs closed around Rythian's wrists. He stiffened.

"That's—a little tight," he said.

"Got to make it look believable, darling," Nilesy said.

"She's not going to be able to get them off," Rythian told him.

"Well, then we'll just have to hope you don't have to teleport anywhere, won't we? It shouldn't be an issue. Soon as you're loose, just pop out the door, and Panda'll take care of the rest."

"Right," said Rythian, uneasy.

Nilesy got to his feet and ruffled Rythian's hair with one gloved hand.

"It'll be _fine,_ Rythian," he repeated. "And if it does all go pear-shaped, just keep up the act and I'm sure they won't give you any grief."

"By _give me any grief,_ do you mean _shoot me?"_

"Yeah!" Nilesy said brightly, resting his hand on Rythian's shoulder. "But honestly, worse things could happen."

"How are you so _calm_ about this?" Rythian demanded.

Nilesy was silent for a good ten seconds. Outside the glass case, Panda was pacing out the room, dressed in a sharp suit, twirling a knife in each hand. Zylus was leaned up against a wall, nestled in a corner, thumbing at a handheld gaming system. It was startlingly incongruous with the century-old general's regalia he'd donned for the occasion, especially with the monocle, although there was something comforting about the sight of the saber belted to his hip. Lomadia had perched up in the rafters, hidden in shadow.

"D'you want the truth," Nilesy asked softly, "or d'you want comfort?"

"Um?" said Rythian, taken aback. "What's—what's the comforting one?"

"Oh, well," said Nilesy, a grin in his voice. "Because I know we can do it. We've got the plan, we've got the skill, we've got each other. We'll make it all right, easy-peasy. No cause for concern at all."

Somehow, this failed to reassure Rythian.

"So . . . what's the truth?" he asked.

Nilesy's hand was heavy on his shoulder.

"Because I don't mind if I die today," he murmured.

Rythian looked up at him, gaping, shocked. Nilesy's face was perfectly composed behind the mask, betraying not one hint of emotion.

"You— _what?"_ Rythian croaked.

Shrugging, Nilesy said, "I don't mind if I die today. It'll have been a good run, yeah? A damn good run. And going out doing something like this, trying to break the machine that's made for genocide—that's a plenty good end, in my book."

"Nilesy," Rythian said, his heart aching.

Nilesy grinned and looked down at him. "And I'll probably look _really fucking cool,_ too."

Before Rythian could reply, Nilesy patted him on the shoulder and strode out of the glass room. Panda stopped his pacing and looked to him, Zylus put away his video game, Lomadia's eyes gleamed in the dark as she turned her head.

"Everyone ready?" Nilesy asked.

"Yeah," said Panda. "D'you mind if I wait in here this time? Lom'll hear them coming a mile off, and I can clear the complex in about six seconds."

Shrugging, Nilesy said, "If you like, darling."

Panda grinned. "Thanks, Niles."

In his corner, Zylus vanished into thin air, saber and all.

"Ready," he said.

"I'm ready," Lomadia called down from the rafters.

"Grand," said Nilesy. He took his phone from his pocket, tugged off one glove, and poked it a few times. His hand paused above the screen, and he looked up at Rythian.

"Ready?" he asked softly.

Rythian took a deep breath and nodded. "Ready," he said.

Nilesy prodded his phone. After a moment, he shut it off and slipped it back into his pocket, then put his glove back on. Rythian fidgeted.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Well," Nilesy sighed, clasping his hands behind his back and rolling up onto his toes. "Now we wait."

There was a long moment of silence, tense and heavy.

"Five poundsh on forty-five minutesh," Zylus called from his side of the warehouse.

"Half an hour and not a second later," Nilesy replied.

Up in the rafters, Lomadia said, "A whole hour."

"Twenty minutes," said Panda, examining his fingernails, "and I'll raise you to ten."

"You're on," said Nilesy, and grinned.

 


	31. Chapter 30

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

It had been a full month since the incident at _Joule's_ and Rythian's disappearance, and things were starting, ever so slowly, to approach something resembling _normal._

Xephos had not attempted to contact either of them since their last visit, so far as Nano knew. Certainly, Lalna hadn't mentioned having heard from him, and they seemed generally well-balanced, if worried. They had been making a lot of cookies lately, and although they never mentioned why, Nano was sure it was because of Rythian. The dead-end presented by Tom had been disappointing, to say the least.

Lalna was making a batch of evening cookies, which they had started on just after Nano had finished dinner. Although Nano was utterly sick of the things, she didn't have the heart to ask Lalna to stop. After all, they had plenty of reason to be worried, with Rythian still missing and the threat of retribution for a crime they didn't commit hanging over their head at all times. She had no right to criticize their coping methods, especially ones as harmless as making cookies.

Nano was sitting at her computer, reading up on polymers, while Lalna took the cookies out of the oven. She was only half-focused on the task, her mind wandering, and so when Lalna edged up next to her with their thumbs ticking together, it took her a moment to register their presence.

"Nano?" Lalna said, and there was something nervous in their voice.

"Hm? Yeah?" she asked, turning away from her computer. Lalna's eyes were a pale, worried purple.

"I've received a message," they said. "The . . . the subject line is _From Nilesy, With Love._ There is a video."

Nano's heart skipped a beat. "Forward it to me," she said, her voice shaking. Moments later, the message popped up in her inbox. It was from a throwaway email address, just a string of random numbers and letters, one of the ones that would cease to exist ten minutes after it was created. The thumbnail of the video inside was just a black square.

"How did he—how did he get your—" Nano stammered, fear welling hot and muggy in her chest.

"Rythian knew it," Lalna said.

"Oh God," Nano said, her stomach churning. "Lalna, I—I don't think—"

"Play it," Lalna said, their voice soft. Their eyes were growing paler and paler, a creeping fear stealing over their one expressive feature. "Please."

Nano gulped, and nodded, and clicked on the video.

It opened on Rythian, tied to a chair, slumped over himself. He wasn't wearing his respirator. The walls behind him were concrete, likely those of a warehouse.

Lalna's eyes went pure white. Nano put her hands over her mouth, tears leaping to her eyes.

"Oh, God, no," she whispered.

Nilesy moved into frame, coming to stand behind Rythian, calm and self-assured. He put gloved hands on Rythian's shoulders and pulled him upright; Rythian's head lolled. His eyes were half-open, unfocused, his lips parted and his breath coming short.

The moment Nilesy laid hands on Rythian, Lalna's eyes went red, and something in their systems picked up to an ear-piercing whine.

Nilesy looked down on Rythian and smiled.

"Like I told you, darling," he murmured, his voice utterly rotten. Nano's hands clenched.

Rythian struggled to get his wits about him, his breath hitching.

"I—I—" he attempted, swaying where he sat.

Nilesy snatched his hair and yanked his head back, and Rythian yelped in pain. Lalna took a quick and menacing step forward, the cuffs of their labcoat smoking. Nano put a hand on their arm, though her heart was pounding and her stomach was sick.

"Like I fucking _told_ you," Nilesy said, holding Rythian's unfocused gaze. Rythian twisted his arms against their restraints, writhing slowly where he sat, his chest heaving with panic. He whimpered, and Nilesy smiled, pulling his head even farther back, baring his throat. It was mottled with dark bruises, as though someone had been choking him repeatedly. Nano's jaw clenched so hard it made her whole head ache.

"Am I going to have to teach you again?" Nilesy inquired. The hand that wasn't fisted in Rythian's hair was idly stroking his shoulder, finger by finger, intimate and gentle. Lalna's eyes were flicking between red and white, red and white.

"No," Rythian said, struggling weakly to get away from Nilesy; uncoordinated, helpless.

"Then say it," Nilesy purred, "like I _told_ you."

"Turn it off," Lalna said, vibrating where they stood. "Turn it _off."_

"No," said Nano, while on the screen Rythian squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for breath. "N-no, Lal, we've got—we've got to see—"

"It's . . . m-me or the—the robot," Rythian managed.

Nano clutched at Lalna's arm, with both hands now, her heart frozen. Rythian kept talking, while Nilesy regarded him contentedly.

"Bring th-them to—"

Nilesy yanked on Rythian's hair, _hard,_ hard enough to make him cry out, his lip curling. The electric whine from Lalna's systems kicked up another notch.

 _"It!"_ Rythian gasped in panic. He was squirming where he sat, his head tipped so far back he was facing the ceiling. "Bring—bring _it_ to—to the w-warehouse where I—where I—"

"Where you drowned," Nilesy said, amused. The way he was looking at Rythian made Nano's skin crawl.

Rythian drew a shivering breath, squirming still. Nilesy's hand slid across his collarbone to rest its gloved fingertips at the base of his neck. Lalna's fists clenched. Their arm was hot under Nano's hands, but she refused to let go.

"You have . . . you have one hour," Rythian said, breathless, slurring his words. His eyes were roving over Nilesy's face, unfocused. "Or . . . or—oh, God. . . ."

Nilesy shoved Rythian away, leaving him slumped over himself and gasping for breath. He looked into the camera and smiled.

"Or I start drowning him again," he said happily. "Once every hour until I can't bring him back anymore."

"Tu _uu_ urn it ~~_off_~~ _,"_ Lalna insisted, their voice buzzing and flanging.

Finger by finger, Nilesy was pulling off his gloves, smiling lazily into the camera, his eyes half-lidded behind the mask.

"And I've got _very_ good at getting the water back out of people's lungs," he said, his voice low and sensual.

Rythian shivered and bowed his head further, shrinking away from Nilesy as best he could.

The first glove came off, and Nilesy tucked it into his pocket. He took the other off as he continued speaking.

"One hour," he said again. "But I don't mind if you're late."

The other glove had come off, tucked into his pocket with its fellow. He was swaying where he stood, although his gaze never wavered.

"Honestly," he went on, finally turning his eyes back to Rythian, his expression greedy and exhilarated. "He's just so much _fun."_

And he grabbed Rythian by the hair and by the throat, hauled him back and kissed him on the mouth.

Lalna made a sound of such raw mechanical fury that Nano scrambled away from them, tumbling out of her chair and scuttling back. On the video, Nilesy went on kissing Rythian, rough and hungry. Rythian had gone stiff, trembling, his breath stopped, his back arched.

Slowly, Nilesy raised his eyes to the camera, still kissing Rythian, holding vicious eye-contact with the screen.

Lalna shot the monitor. The laser pulse went straight through it and exploded against the wall behind, leaving a sparking hole in the screen. Nano took another step back.

 _"I am going to kill him,"_ Lalna snarled, their voice buzzing like a saw. They turned on their heel and started for the door, their strides long and purposeful.

"Lalna, _wait!"_ Nano cried. She leapt into their path and put both hands on their chest. Their metal skin vibrated under her hands, but they _did_ stop. "This is a _trap._ This is really, obviously a trap, and—and we've got to be _calm_ about this."

"No," Lalna said. "The ti _ii_ ime for ~~calmness~~ is over."

"Lalna, _listen_ to me," she insisted. There were tears pricking at her eyes and her voice was shaking. "Everything we just saw— _everything—_ was designed to make us angry. It was designed to make us scared and hurt and angry and _careless._ We _cannot_ rush into this. I'm sorry, I know it's hard and I know it hurts to wait, but—but Lalna, you could _die_ if we're not careful. We've got . . . we've got an hour. Okay? We've got time to sit and think. Rythian'll be—"

She broke off. _Okay_ wasn't the right word, and Lalna would know it.

"Rythian will be alive when we get there," she said. The tears had spilled over her cheeks, born of frustration and fear. "And we _will_ get there. I promise. We _will_ help him. But I _need_ you to calm down and help me _think,_ Lalna, otherwise we might _all_ die."

They stood perfectly still for a good fifteen seconds.

"It does n _nn_ ot require thinking," they said. "I will ki _iii_ ill everyone in the room who is-is-is not ~~Rythian~~. It will take no mo-more than ei _iii_ ght seconds."

Nano's blood ran cold. The attack on _Joule's_ swam up in her mind—charred bodies and broken glass and blood on the walls. She turned away from Lalna, wrapping her arms around her own waist.

"No," she said, half to herself. "No, no more killing."

"It is ~~necessary~~."

"It's _monstrous!"_ Nano cried, rounding on them. She was crying openly now, unable to stop the flow of tears. It was choking up her throat, but she kept talking anyway. "Enough people are dead, Lalna! Enough people are dead because of you!"

The lights of their eyes snapped out on the instant. Nano clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Lalna—I didn't—I didn't mean that," she stammered, her heart constricted.

"You did," they said.

"N-no, no, Lalna, I _know_ it wasn't you, I meant—I mean that—just . . . I can't. I can't watch anyone else die. I can't watch you . . . _become_ that. I know it wasn't you, Lalna, and I want it to _stay_ not you. Please. Please, for the love of God. Don't be that _thing."_

Very slowly, Lalna's eyes brightened again. They remained a dim, pale purple.

"I understand," they said softly.

"I'm sorry, Lalna," Nano told them. "I'm . . . I'm so sorry, I just—"

"I understand," they repeated.

Nano took a deep breath, cupping her face in her hands. She was shaking, and she couldn't breathe right, and her heart wouldn't stop pounding. She took another deep breath, and it still didn't help.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. Let's . . . let's figure this out."

Lalna just nodded.

* * *

 

The plan was simple, because simple plans were harder to fuck up.

Lalna would keep eyes and guns on Nilesy and anyone else in the room. Nano would rescue Rythian. The three of them would leave together, with Lalna watching their backs to make sure no one tried anything funny.

Nano wasn't sure what they were going to do if Nilesy had put Rythian under water again, but from the looks of the video she was willing to risk it not being an issue.

They left for the warehouse with half an hour still on the clock, and arrived with nearly twenty minutes to spare. Lalna beelined for one of the warehouses—Nano couldn't even remember which one it had been last time, but between Lalna's memory and their sensors they must have known where they were going—and she followed, strung out so tightly between fear and rage that she felt she would snap at any second.

Lalna did not wait for her before kicking the door in—and they kicked it clean off its hinges, sending it screeching across the concrete floor. They stormed in, eyes glowing hellfire-red, and Nano hurried after them.

Nilesy was standing in the center of the warehouse, hands clasped behind his back, watching the door. To his left, there was a small glass room, four walls and a ceiling. Tied to a chair inside the room, slumped over and motionless, was Rythian.

Lalna's flight boosters fired once, carrying them across the warehouse in a single, graceful leap. They landed directly between Nilesy and Rythian and stood still, their frame vibrating, their fists clenched at their sides.

Nilesy held up rubber-gloved hands in surrender, grinning.

"Hallo, _you,"_ he said, his eyes fixed on Lalna.

They raised both their laser rifles and primed them with a terrible whine.

 _"Requesting authorization for lethal force,"_ they said.

"No," Nano blurted.

Nilesy let out a delighted little squeak, like it was Christmas morning and he'd just seen a puppy under the tree.

She clenched her fists and added in a growl, "But if he moves his hands more than an inch, _shoot them off."_

Lalna adjusted their aim, and Nilesy's smile went brittle.

"Well, I suppose today's lesson is in holding still," he remarked glibly.

"Do not talk," Lalna said.

Nano hurried over to the glass room and knelt in front of Rythian.

"Hey," she said, taking his face in both hands. He stirred, his eyes drifting open. His gaze was unfocused, and his skin was mottled with bruises.

At least they'd put the respirator back on him.

"Nano?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, it's me. We're getting you out of here. Hang tight."

He shook his head. "Trap," he croaked. "'S a trap. . . ."

"Yes," said Nano, "I know."

"Why. . . ?"

She patted his cheek carefully and let go of him. He tried to lift his head and only made it about halfway. She scurried around behind him and examined the state of the ropes and manacles.

"Because we love you, idiot," she said. "Hang tight. I should be able to untie these ropes, but I'm going to have to melt through the manacles."

 _"Love?"_ Rythian said, his voice strained. His hands clenched.

Meanwhile, Nilesy had started talking again.

"Didn't really think you'd come," he said. "Well, no, that's not true. I _hoped_ you wouldn't come. Rythian and I have been having such a grand time together, haven't we, Rythian?"

Rythian said nothing.

"I swear to _God_ I am going to beat that man's slimy little _face_ in," Nano hissed under her breath, tugging at the knots that bound Rythian's hands together. This close, she could see quite clearly that more than one of the bruises on his neck was a bite.

"Stop talking," said Lalna.

"Why?" Nilesy asked. "If _you're_ going to shoot my hands off, _I'm_ going to shoot my mouth off. Unless your handler over there decides she'd rather you blow me to bits. Like you did with those seventeen innocent people at _Joule's."_

Nano's hands faltered, and she jerked them back, wary of accidentally electrocuting herself.

"That was no _ooo_ ot me," Lalna said, their eyes flickering with white, shading from red towards purple.

Rythian's head snapped up, and his body stiffened, and his breathing grew shallow and quick.

"It wasn't?" Nilesy inquired brightly. "Then what _was_ it, you filthy lying scrap-heap?"

Lalna said nothing. Nilesy smiled at them.

"That's what I thought," he said. "Pro tip: if you're going to commit murder, at least have an alibi in mind before you go yelling that you haven't done it."

"It _wasn't_ them," Nano snapped, raising her voice so Nilesy would be sure to hear her. She had gone back to untying Rythian, although his sudden attentiveness had put her ill at ease. _Something_ was amiss with this whole thing, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"Know that for a fact, do you?" Nilesy asked.

"Yes," she retorted, "as a matter of fact, I fucking do!"

Rythian had started trembling. Sparks were skittering through his hair, and his hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles had gone white. Nano managed to undo the last of the knots and pinched her fingers around the chain connecting the manacles.

"Hold still," she warned, "or you'll get burned."

Rythian took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. His body was like a steel cable, wound so tight it was about to snap.

"Yeah?" Nilesy asked her, still not taking his eyes off Lalna. "Watching it the whole time, were you? Never a moment's inattention? I assume you must've been, from how it completely failed to mention that you were."

Nano clenched her jaw and poured her Power out into her fingertips. The silver chain sizzled and began to dissolve.

"It waszs no-no-not me," Lalna said again, their voice gone soft and frightened. "It wa ~~aaas~~ _not_ me."

Nilesy smiled at them, although there was something almost _regretful_ in the expression.

"It was close enough," he said gently.

The silver chain broke with a little _pak,_ and Rythian shot to his feet. He stopped, swaying, and she caught him by the arm before his knees gave out from underneath him.

"I've got you," she said, keeping her eyes firmly on Nilesy. "I've got you, it's all right."

"I'm fine," he protested, shrugging her off. "I'm _fine."_

"Rythian—" she began, but he seemed to have no trouble standing on his own, and started for the door of the glass case like a thunderstorm.

Nilesy finally took his eyes off Lalna to look at Rythian, still half-smiling. He dipped his head and spoke into his collar.

"Arms're getting a little tired, darling," he said.

There was a sudden _bang_ and a blur rushed into the warehouse. The door of the glass case slammed in Rythian's face, sending him reeling back a step. He lost his balance and fell, landing hard on his hands.

Panda stood in front of the door, grinning at him.

"Sorry," he sang, his voice rotten with perverse glee. "You can't be _trus-ted~"_

Nano stared down at Rythian, who was looking up at Panda with wide, fearful eyes. Her fists clenched slowly by her sides, and something in her chest ignited with a white-hot rage.

"Trusted?" she growled.

"Panda, darling, don't gloat," Nilesy said. "It's unseemly."

 _"Trusted?"_ Nano repeated, her words laced with fire.

"Nano?" Lalna said, an edge of panic in their voice. "What do I do?"

Nilesy returned his eyes to them and gave that same regretful smile.

"Ideally," he said, "you die."

Nano threw herself against the glass and cried, _"I'm authorizing lethal—"_

Panda blurred again, cannoning into Lalna's back and knocking them a step forward. A curtain of water burst up in front of Nilesy just in time to catch the two laser shots that snapped from Lalna's wrists. There was a pair of brilliant white explosions as the water flashed to steam, and a mad giggle burst from Nilesy's mouth.

Lalna caught their balance and aimed again, but Panda struck them in the shoulder, leaving the hilt of a knife protruding from the joint. Rythian cursed and scrambled to his feet. He ran to the door, slamming the flat of his hand against it.

 _"Stop!"_ he screamed, his voice cracking. _"Stop it!"_

Lalna fired at Nilesy again, using their undamaged arm, and again the laser shot impacted against a sheet of water and died in a steam explosion.

"Move!" Nano snarled at Rythian, shoving him out of the way with both hands. She found the seam of the door and pressed her palms to it, pouring Power out through her skin until acid mucous dripped and ran down the glass, clinging to the rubber seal between the door and the walls. She started cursing under her breath, glancing rapidly between her hands and the fight.

Panda darted in towards Lalna again, another knife flashing in his hands, and Lalna turned to fire at him. The shot missed by less than an inch, boring a hole into the far wall—but Panda had been forced to skid to a stop to avoid getting hit, and Lalna lined up a second shot.

Lomadia dropped from the darkness of the rafters in silence, closing both talons around Lalna's forearm with the screech of scored metal. Her wings labored as she tried to lift them from the ground, her face red with strain, but Lalna did not so much as budge. They raised their other hand to fire at her, the motion of their arm made jerky and painful by the knife in their shoulder.

A tendril of water whipped out and caught Lalna's arm, yanking it aside before they fired. The shot vaporized a patch of ceiling, sending a shower of glowing dust down onto Lomadia. Nilesy was standing with one hand outstretched, controlling the tendril, a forest of the things flailing at the air around him like the feelers of an anemone. He was not smiling anymore.

Lalna wrenched their arm free of Lomadia's grasp and fired a shot into the tendril of water, severing its contact with the host body. They raised their hand to fire at Nilesy, now unprotected, but Panda struck their arm from underneath, scraping sparks from their titanium skin with his knife, and the shot blew a chunk out of the wall above Nilesy's head.

 _"Lalna!"_ Nano cried. The rubber was not giving way under her acid slime, the glass thoroughly unaffected. The hinges were all on the outside. The concrete floor was hissing, but the pits she was dissolving into it were small at best. She kicked the door in frustration. "Get out of here!"

Lalna's flight boosters activated, and they lifted into the air. Lomadia was upon them in an instant, harrying them with her claws, tearing at their coat and the seams of their back. Lalna whirled on her, but before they could squeeze off a single shot, a pair of watery tendrils lashed around them, one pinning an arm to their waist, the other clutching their wrist and hauling it aside, stretching their arm far out to the side. Lalna fired anyway, and the shot melted a clean hole through the wall of the glass case and exploded against the floor. Nano darted to the hole and pushed her fingers through it, though it was still hot enough to burn her. She poured more Power through her hands, knowing it was fruitless, cursing herself for her idiocy and her powerlessness.

There was a terrible screeching noise, and an explosion of sparks at Lalna's shoulder, and they _screamed,_ an awful buzzing shriek that pierced Nano's ears and shivered in her bones.

Nilesy made a violent, wrenching gesture with both arms, and Lalna's arm tore messily from their body.

Rythian cried out and threw himself against the glass door, frantically trying to break it down. Sparks were leaping from his body, earthing in anything they could find, and Nano stumbled back from him, her heart in her throat, her body vibrating with helpless tension.

Nilesy threw Lalna into the air and caught them by the other arm, slung them down into the ground so hard their body left a crater, and there was another explosion of sparks and Lalna's screaming stuttered and went silent. A second tendril of water slammed down onto them and pinned them there, and with another wrenching screech Lalna's other arm tore free, tossed carelessly aside like so much garbage, sparking and smoking and spinning through the air.

The water returned and wrapped around Lalna's ankles, thrashing and writhing like a nest of snakes, twisting the limbs at unnatural angles while Lalna struggled helplessly, until their legs, too, tore off in an explosion of sparks. Their eyes flickered and they twitched.

Nilesy grabbed Lalna by the head with one of the tendrils and yanked them up into the air, then slammed them down into the ground, and then again, and again and again and again, vicious hammer-blows that cracked the concrete and rattled Nano's bones. Nilesy's face was blank behind the mask, white with rage, and he was pounding Lalna into the ground so hard that it was denting their titanium plates, ripping off pieces and spewing oils and sparks.

Over and over, relentless as the sea, while Lalna dangled helplessly as a doll from the grasping tendril of water.

"Enough," Panda said, his voice thin, his eyes wide, standing still and trembling.

Nilesy did not so much as blink, just continued beating Lalna to death against the ground.

"Nilesy, _stop!"_ Panda cried. In a blur, he zipped to Nilesy's side and caught his arm as it rose.

Nilesy rounded on him, shoving him off, his face still blank and terrible, and a second tendril of water swung up with his other arm and drew ready to strike Panda down where he stood.

Panda cried out in fear and scrambled away from him, blurring in his haste, and Nilesy hesitated.

Slowly, he unclenched his hands, and the animated water dropped unceremoniously to the ground, leaving Lalna to fall with it. They bounced once and lay there sparking and twitching. Their eyes were white with fear, flickering.

Nilesy lowered his arms, every movement slow and deliberate. He was breathing heavily, and his skin was sheened with sweat, and he had started shaking. He looked over at Lalna and swallowed.

"We're done here," he said quietly, and his voice was trembling, too. He turned and went to the door, his posture tense.

After a moment, Panda got to his feet and scurried after him. Lomadia descended from the rafters and alighted next to them.

Rythian finally crashed through the door in a shower of broken glass, tumbling to the ground, bleeding and wild-eyed. He staggered to his feet and ran to Lalna, weeping. Nano went after him, stunned and tottering, her body and mind filled up with white static.

Rythian dropped to his knees at Lalna's side, his hands held up in frantic impotence, tears streaming down his face.

"No, no, no," he whispered, looking over Lalna's ruined body, his face contorted with pain.

Lalna's eyes brightened, still that terrified white, still flickering unsteadily.

"I _ii_ t'sszs . . . o- ~~kay~~ ," they managed, their voice distorted, hissing and crackling with static.

"Lalna, no," Rythian whimpered, shaking his head. A shower of sparks spat from Lalna's shoulder socket, skittering across the oily water on the floor.

"It'szs . . . o-kay," Lalna said again. "I ww _aaa_ szs not . . . de-de-desi _ii_ gned to ~~ffffeel~~ much pa _aiin."_

Their head twitched, and their eyes flickered, and Rythian sobbed, curling in on himself and digging his fingers into his arms.

Nano stood behind him, numb, watching events unfold as though they were scenes in a film; distant and muffled behind the ringing in her ears.

"Please, no," Rythian said. "Please, you're—you'll be a-all right, you'll be all right. . . ."

"N _nn_ o," Lalna said. Their eyes dimmed, and another fountain of sparks blew out of the stump of their left leg. "I'm . . . dy _yyy_ ing. I'm szzzszorry, Ry-th . . . i-an. . . . I . . . lo ~~ooo~~ ve . . . y-ou. . . ."

Rythian crumbled, weeping helplessly and rocking back and forth, petting his own arms in distress, smearing blood and broken glass under his fingertips.

Faintly, Nano heard a resigned sigh. She raised her head, moving as though in a dream, and saw Nilesy still standing in the doorway, his head bowed, shoulders slumped. As she watched, he tugged the heavy-duty rubber gloves off his hands, folded them together, and tossed them. They landed with a wet _thwap_ a few feet from Rythian.

Rythian's head snapped up, his face soaked with tears, his breath coming only in short gasps.

"Those are from Liam," Nilesy said quietly, still expressionless; and with that, he turned and walked out, and the other two trailed after him. The door shut behind them with an undignified _click._

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Rythian crawled to the gloves and pulled them on, and then crawled back to Lalna's side. Sobbing, he took Lalna's face in his hands, scarcely able to breathe.

"Lalna," he whispered, his voice broken and ruined.

Lalna twitched, and their eyes dimmed further, still flickering.

"I a _aa_ m . . . L41- ~~NA~~ ," they said, their voice stuttering and crackling. "I . . . am . . . L4-4-4-41-NA . . . I . . . I . . . I. . . ."

Their eyes went dark, and the twitching stopped, and sparks burst from their neck and bounced off of Rythian's leg, singeing his trousers. The constant low whine of Lalna's systems declined into silence. Rythian cried out softly, folding over, his hands still clasping Lalna's face.

Slowly, Nano sank to the ground. Something terrible was building inside her, something hollow and dark, threatening to swallow her whole.

Through the sound of Rythian's weeping, she heard a quiet _click,_ and an escalating whine. Though her eyes were heavy as lead, she looked up.

The light had come back on in Lalna's eyes, flickering again. Rythian was staring down at them, gasping, a terrible hope on his face. There were several more clicks, and then the lights snapped off and the electric whine fell into silence. Rythian crumpled like he'd been punched in the gut, shaking still.

A sickness awoke in Nano's gut, spreading with oozing tendrils. The _click_ came again, and the whine, and the light flickered back to life in Lalna's eyes. Sparks spat from their ruined body, and curls of blue smoke rose from the ragged stumps of their limbs. Again, their power cut out, and again, Rythian took it like a physical blow.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, God, please. . . ."

The _click,_ and the whine, and the lights that meant nothing now; and then the hard shut-off, and Lalna died again.

 _"Please,"_ Rythian begged, tears flowing over his respirator and dripping onto Lalna's body.

 _Click,_ and whine, and flickering lights in dead eyes; and Lalna died again.

"Rythian," Nano said, her voice as hollow as the terrible, broken space inside her.

 _"No,"_ he moaned, shaking his head, bowing over Lalna's body. "No, _no. . . ."_

And Lalna's systems wheezed to life, and then Lalna died _again._

"They're gone, Rythian," Nano said, her voice small and trembling. "They're gone."

Rythian sobbed. Lalna's systems tried to reboot, and Rythian shook his head.

Slowly, reverently, shaking so hard he could scarcely move, Rythian pulled off his respirator, and bowed over Lalna, and pressed his lips to theirs.

There was a terrible _crack,_ and Lalna's body convulsed, and the whine went silent and the lights went dark. Smoke rose from the torn edges of their body, brushing over Rythian's trembling frame, and there was a smell of burned plastic.

Rythian collapsed against Lalna's body and wept like a child; and this time, Lalna stayed dead.

Nano sat still and waited for the grief to take her, waited for the space inside her to swallow her whole.

And eventually, it did.

 


	32. Chapter 31

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Just outside the door of the warehouse, Zylus reappeared at Nilesy's elbow. The four of them were headed towards the car parked two rows over, Zylus's little blue Prius with the GPS torn out. Nilesy kept his eyes on the ground and his expression blank. He could feel Panda watching him, and it made the skin under his mask prickle and burn.

"That was amazing," Lomadia said, fairly skipping along beside them. "You were _amazing."_

She leaned in to kiss Nilesy's cheek. He tipped his head away, just fractionally, not looking at her. She moved away from him, looking puzzled.

"Please take Panda home, Lom," he said, somehow managing to keep his voice level.

"Why?" she asked.

"I . . . I kind of . . . would like that, actually," Panda said meekly. "If that's . . . okay. Um."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Okay. Let's go, then."

She stopped walking, and held out her arms, and Panda climbed into them. She leapt off the ground, wings beating in silence as she lifted the both of them into the sky. She vanished into the low clouds, and was gone.

For a time, Zylus and Nilesy walked in silence.

"He'll be okay," Zylus said.

"Stop," Nilesy said.

Zylus held up his hands in surrender. They walked the rest of the way to the car in silence, and drove home in silence. He was sure Zylus was watching him, glancing over every time he could take his eyes off the road. He could only imagine what kind of thoughts were spilling out of his head and into Zylus's.

When they got home, the door was unlocked. Nilesy went in first, and Zylus followed him, shutting the door and locking it. Neither Lomadia nor Panda were in the living room, although there was a crumpled juice box on the kitchen counter, a used testing strip next to it.

"Nileshy," Zylus said carefully. "Who'sh Liam?"

"Nobody," Nilesy snapped. He stalked into his room and slammed the door behind him.

He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it away, yanked his tie off and let it slither to the floor. He went into his bathroom and propped his hands on the sink, head bowed, trembling, while the mirror stared at him.

Slowly, he raised his head and met his own eyes.

The mask was there, but it seemed suddenly flimsy, suddenly just cardboard and plaster; and worse, he could see the face underneath it, could see it just the way Rythian had done, that miserable and cringing visage with its watery eyes and wibbling lower lip.

The face of a frightened, powerless child.

Disgusted, he whirled away from the mirror and tore the mask off, throwing it to the ground. It cracked, and he stomped on it for good measure. His shaking redoubled, and he couldn't catch his breath.

His eye caught on the bathtub, full of clear water. His movements jerky, he crossed to it, and knelt down, and dunked his head and shoulders into it, pressing his forehead to the bottom of the tub.

The water closed around him, cold and dark, and filled his ears with roaring. His heart started pounding, frantic, and his whole body twitched in a futile attempt to pull him back above the surface. He braced his hands on the edge of the tub and held himself down, counting in his head.

_Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. . . ._

Why hadn't he killed them? It would have been so easy. The robot was out of the way, both of them were stunned, helpless. It would have been the easiest thing in the world. Lomadia would have understood, would have seen it was necessary. Who _cared_ how broken, how distraught, how _betrayed_ Rythian had looked? Who _cared_ how alone he had seemed?

_Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two. . . ._

And he'd almost, _almost_ hurt Panda, he'd come so close, blinded by rage and a terrible thundering hatred, crashing through him like storm-tossed waves, and _that_ would have been easy, too, because Panda was so small and frail and _insignificant_ and Nilesy could've swatted him like a fly.

_Fifty-nine, one minute, one minute and one. . . ._

Nilesy twitched, and pressed his forehead harder into the bottom of the tub. His lungs were starting to ache, and he was still trembling, his heart pounding faster and faster.

 _Why_ had he let them live? That wasn't how he _worked,_ that wasn't how things were supposed to go. Of course he'd loved Rythian, and of course he'd hoped—stupidly—that Rythian _wouldn't_ turn his coat back in a time of crisis, but he'd _known_ this would happen, _known_ it would end in tears, _known_ he would have to kill him. So why _hadn't_ he? And why on God's green earth had he taken _pity_ on him? Pity wasn't something he was supposed to feel, it had no place in him. Why take pity on _Rythian,_ when he'd come so close to _killing_ Panda?

_One minute forty-seven, one minute forty-eight, one minute forty-nine. . . ._

But of course, it _hadn't_ been Nilesy who had taken pity. It had been _Liam,_ cowering, pitiful Liam, who was supposed to be dead and buried, who was supposed to stay quiet when the mask was on—who wasn't supposed to _exist_ when the mask was on.

Cowering, pitiful, _stupid_ Liam, who felt _guilty_ for killing the robot.

He twitched again as his body tried to pull his head up above the water, his diaphragm convulsing as it tried to expel the carbon dioxide from his lungs, tried to force the poison from his body.

_Two minutes and twenty, two minutes twenty-one, two minutes twenty-two. . . ._

The lines were not supposed to be blurry. The identities were not supposed to cross, not ever, and especially not _now,_ not when it was so important. He'd done what he'd set out to do, after all, destroyed the weapon of mass destruction, the flagship of YogLabs' twisted armada, and shouldn't that have felt _good?_ Shouldn't he have been riding so high on success that a couple of little murders would have just been the icing on the cake?

_Two minutes fifty-three, two minutes fifty-four, two minutes fifty-five. . . ._

In desperation, Liam tried to sit up, tried to jerk his head out of the water. Nilesy grabbed him by the hair and forced his head back under, cracking his forehead against the bottom of the tub, his other hand still clenched on the side. All the air rushed out of him in a gout of bubbles that stirred up the surface and tickled across his face. His whole body was burning with the effort of keeping from inhaling, writhing slowly, his dress shoes drawing long scuffs on the linoleum floor.

_Three minutes and eighteen, three minutes and nineteen, three minutes and—_

Nilesy's body gave out, and he sucked in a huge gasp of water. It went into his lungs burning like acid, searing against the delicate structures inside him. He convulsed in agony, cracking his head on the bottom of the tub again, his hands clenching so tight it made his knuckles crack.

Another breath went down, another gasp of pain as his lungs filled the rest of the way, as the last of the airspace was drowned out, and his heart stuttered and his limbs went weak and his mind went numb and fuzzy.

He sagged against the bottom of the tub, his heart rate slowing, his eyes cracked open and staring at nothing. His head was full of static, and his body felt distant.

Nilesy stayed like that for uncounted minutes, his system reacclimating to pulling oxygen from the water around and inside him.

Dimly, through the muffled roar of water in his ears, he heard someone knock on the door. He didn't respond, but they came in anyway. They knelt down next to him and put a gentle hand on his back.

Zylus's voice was distorted, but recognizable. All he said was, "Hey."

Nilesy stayed under for another two minutes. When he finally hauled himself back up above the water, Zylus helped him, held him up while he coughed the water from his lungs and rode out the second wave of agony as his system switched gears a second time.

When he was breathing like a human again, he sat still, swaying, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Zylus gathered him into his arms, and Nilesy rested his head on the other man's shoulder, water running down his face and soaking into Zylus's shirt. Zylus dragged his fingers through Nilesy's hair, combing it back out of his face.

"I'm shorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have ashked."

Nilesy shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. There was a vast emptiness in him, the hollow space where Liam usually resided, vacated by the drowning. He curled a little closer to Zylus and shivered.

"Panda'sh all right," Zylus mentioned. "A little shaken up, but he'sh all right. I'm sure he'sh not upshet with you. Kid bounshesh back quick, and he'sh not hurt or anything."

Clenching his jaw and his fists, Nilesy focused on breathing. The shivering was becoming more pronounced, although he wasn't particularly cold.

"Hey, shh, it'sh all right," Zylus said, squeezing him. "We're all shtill here. It'sh all right, Nileshy. We made it. We're okay."

Nilesy shut his eyes and took a deep breath, and then another. He managed to get the shivering under control, and it continued to abate with every breath.

"I've got your shirt all wet," he croaked, his throat raw.

"Wouldn't be the firsht time," Zylus said. He patted Nilesy's shoulder. "Want shome tea? I wash going to make a pot."

"You're an angel," Nilesy told him.

"I bet you shay that to all the boysh," he said.

"Only the ones who pull me out of the water," said Nilesy.

"And how many of them have there been?"

Nilesy only shook his head.

* * *

 

When the tea had been made and duly drunk, Zylus pulled out his console and controllers and loaded up one of his retro cartoon racing games. He settled on the couch, shoulder-to-shoulder with Panda, and handed him a controller. Lomadia picked one up as well and nestled onto the back of the sofa, one of her wings resting protectively around Panda's shoulder. Nilesy sat in the armchair, his legs curled up underneath him.

"Want to play?" Zylus offered, holding out a controller.

Nilesy managed a wan smile. "No, thanks," he said.

Three rounds later, he joined in anyway, and took to cursing the lot of them for cheaters and hacks when he consistently came in last place every single time.

"Play me in Halo," Lomadia snarled, as Zylus edged her into second place for the ninth time in a row. "One-v-one, you cheat."

"You wanna go?" he asked. "I'll take you down there, too."

She threw down her controller. "Bring it," she said.

Zylus got up and squared off with her.

"Yeah? Fine, your room or mine?"

"Mine," said Lomadia. She hopped off the back of the couch and stormed into her room. Zylus followed her, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

The silence that swirled in their wake was somewhat spoiled by the cheery, retro music tooting along happily from the television.

Carefully, Nilesy got up and moved to sit on the sofa, staying a good three feet from Panda, keeping his eyes lowered.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, a lump in his throat. He blinked the tears from his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Panda. I . . . I don't know what I can do to—"

"What _happened_ to you?" Panda interrupted. "What _was_ that?"

Nilesy swallowed, lacing his fingers together and resting his elbows on his knees.

"A mistake?" he guessed, shrugging. "I never meant to . . . let it get loose like that. Especially not . . . at you."

Panda was quiet for some time.

"Is that what it's like in your head?" he asked quietly. "All the time?"

"No," said Nilesy, wryly. "Just most of it."

"Jesus Christ," Panda muttered. "No _wonder_ Zylus won't go in there."

Another repetition of the music played through, jarringly exuberant.

"I'm sorry," Nilesy said again.

Panda reached out and touched his hand.

"I forgive you," he said.

"Really? Are you sure that's a good idea? Because—"

"Shush," said Panda.

"Panda—"

_"Shush."_

Carefully, Nilesy took his hand. Panda scooted over until their shoulders were touching.

"If there's anything I can do," Nilesy said. "Anything you need to . . . y'know. Be all right. Will you let me know?"

Panda sighed heavily and leaned his head on Nilesy's damp shoulder.

"Well, you could stop fucking drowning yourself, for a start," he said. "Honestly, it's _horrifying."_

Nilesy's stomach knotted up with dread, his heart fluttered in panic.

"I—I'm not . . . sure I can do that," he said.

"Why _not?"_

He shook his head. "I just—it's . . . ahahah, necessary, sometimes. Sorry. Really. I—ahahah—I _need_ it."

The last words came out darker, _hungrier_ than he'd intended, and the sound of it made him sick. Panda was quiet for so long that Nilesy was sure he'd finally crossed the line, finally said something so indisputably _crazy_ that it had clued Panda in to the fact that he was _unsalvageable—_

"Weeelll," Panda said slowly, touching Nilesy's thigh with one knuckle. "There . . . _is_ one other thing I could think of that would help. I mean, if you're up for it. Which I understand if you're not, it's sort of, well. . . ."

"Anything," Nilesy said immediately.

Panda took a deep breath, lifted his head off Nilesy's shoulder, and took his face in his hands. His expression was serious, his eyes bright and wide.

"Nilesy," Panda said, "I would really like to have sex with you."

Nilesy blinked at him, thrown completely off balance.

"I—are you . . . _sure?"_ he asked, his voice thready.

"Yes," said Panda.

"All right," said Nilesy, still too stunned to react properly. "I s'pose . . . er, your room or—or mine?"

Panda lit up like Christmas morning and kissed him quickly.

"Mine," he declared. "I've got a stash of snacks in there for when I crash. Is now good? Is that okay? Or are you—"

"I'm fine," said Nilesy, although the words tasted foul.

_Because that was what you had to say, even if you were too scared to breathe—_

"Super," Panda said, and kissed him again before leaping to his feet, and Nilesy let himself be hauled along. It was easier to forget. Easier to be whatever Panda needed, instead of trying to stay himself.

Whoever that was.

* * *

 

It was strange, not having Rythian there. The flat seemed larger, the days longer. Nilesy kept expecting to see him rooting through the fridge, or passed out on the couch, or slipping out of Lomadia's room with his hair wet and his cheeks flushed.

He spent his nights alone, because it felt like deserved penance. He spent most of the rest of his time alone, too, because Panda still had school and Zylus still had work and Lomadia still had to sleep. After only three days, Zylus intruded on his self-imposed isolation.

It was early evening, but Nilesy had only gotten up a few minutes ago, and that only because he was starving. There was a soft knock at his door, and he called, "Come in."

Zylus pushed the door open and leaned his shoulder against the frame, folding his arms. He said nothing.

"Hallo," said Nilesy. He was sitting on his bed and kicking his feet, still working up the energy to get out of his pajamas. "Something you needed?"

"What'sh nexsht?" Zylus asked, his voice low and serious.

 _"Next?"_ said Nilesy, half-laughing. "We're not _nearly_ at _next_ yet. Now's the time for lying low and hoping we don't die. Personally I'm quite happy to never go back to that hellhole of a job, even _if_ it's only because Rythian'd turn up and kill me. I'll have a look through the classifieds, though, so you won't be carrying us by yourself for long."

"Not what I meant," said Zylus.

With a sigh, Nilesy rolled his eyes. "Can we not play games today, darling? I'm afraid I haven't got the patience for it."

Zylus's eyes narrowed. "I meant: what happensh nexsht time you shnap."

Nilesy stilled, looking away.

"There won't be a next time," he said softly.

"I'm sure you believe that," said Zylus. "I don't. What'sh nexsht, Nileshy? How far out of control are you going to get _nexsht_ time before you manage to shtop yourshelf? _If_ you manage to shtop yourshelf."

"Quit," he snapped, bristling.

"No," Zylus retorted. "I want to know what the fuck you're going to _do_ about it."

"I don't _have_ to do anything about it," Nilesy said, "because it's _not_ going to happen again."

"That'sh what you shaid about Rythian, too," said Zylus.

"That's _different."_

"It'sh not. And I'm not going to shtand here waiting for you to _kill_ one of ush."

Nilesy took a deep breath and let it out again. Slowly, he got to his feet and turned to face Zylus.

"And what am I _supposed_ to do about it?" he inquired, spreading his hands. The gesture felt dirty, dishonest, without the mask on. "Got any recommendations?"

Zylus watched him for a long moment.

"You need help, Nileshy," he said gently.

 _"Help?"_ Nilesy exclaimed, and giggled. His face was prickling. "From _who?_ From fucking _who,_ Zylus? Go on, I'd be _delighted_ to hear it."

"We'll find shomeone," Zylus said stiffly. He'd gone rather pale, and his hands were tight on his biceps.

"Right, yeah, of course you will," said Nilesy. His eyes flicked to the mask, sitting on his bedside table, and his fingers twitched. "Who'll you find, Zylus? A specialist, maybe? For freaks?"

"I really wish you wouldn't—"

 _"Freaks,"_ Nilesy spat, his fists clenching. "That's what we are to them, you might as well get fucking used to it—"

"For _fuck'sh_ shake!" Zylus cried. "Jeshush Chrisht, don't you ever turn _off?_ Thish ishn't about your shtupid revenge kick!"

"Then what the fuck _is_ it about, Zylus?" he demanded. "Because God knows I could use a fucking hint!"

Zylus ground his teeth for a moment, then stepped inside and shut the door behind him. When he looked back to Nilesy, his eyes were hard, his shoulders tense.

"Thish ish about what you did to Panda," he said.

"I didn't do _anything_ to Panda!"

"Like hell you didn't! Chrisht, Nileshy, you think I can't _tell?_ You think I couldn't _hear?_ You were going to _kill_ him, you were going to shwat him like a fucking fly!"

"No," Nilesy choked, his insides squirming themselves into knots. "No, that's not—I _didn't—"_

"You didn't what, _hurt_ him?" Zylus said. "By how much? How much of a fucking margin do you have, Nileshy? How closhe _were_ you?"

"Stop," said Nilesy. The skin of his face was itching like mad, so bad that he had to turn away from Zylus. There was a chill in his bones, deepening with every word, dark and old and terribly vast, reaching down and down towards a bottomless and uncaring rage.

"No," Zylus said. "Thish hash to _shtop,_ Nileshy, and it hash to shtop _right fucking now,_ before it getsh any worshe."

"It's—not—going—to," Nilesy said, his voice only coming in short gasps, his lungs crushed by the awful pressure of that abyssal wrath.

"Yesh it fucking ish!" Zylus cried. "You're _going_ to fuck up, you're _going_ to loshe it, _you are going to hurt shomeone,_ Nileshy! That'sh a univershal fucking _conshtant!_ It'sh jusht a matter of time until the pershon getting hurt ish shomeone you care about! How long ish it going to be before it'sh one of _ush_ you're drowning in the river for fucking kicksh? How long before Lomadia—"

Nilesy rounded on him in silent fury, his Power lashing out half of its own accord.

Zylus was flung into the near wall, slammed against it hard enough to knock his breath out. He was pinned there, eyes wide with terror, and Nilesy could feel his blood pounding, his heart laboring, struggling against his control—

The horror of what he'd just done dawned on him, and he dropped Zylus on the instant. Nilesy took a slow step back, raising his hands to his mouth. He was shaking, his ears ringing, his stomach sick. Zylus sagged, gasping for breath, one hand pressed to his chest. His skin was waxy and pale, his jaw slack. Nilesy took another step back, shaking his head, unable to look away.

"I think that provesh my point," Zylus muttered hoarsely.

Nilesy shrank into himself, squeezing his eyes shut, hands clenched over his own mouth to hold in the sobs. It had been so _easy,_ to pick him up and throw him like a doll, like a fragile little porcelain doll, and it would have been so easy to _break_ him, too, so easy to shut him up for good.

He shook his head again, trying to rid himself of the treacherous thoughts like they were flies. This couldn't be real, he couldn't have actually _hurt Zylus,_ not for so _little._ He was dreaming, he _must_ have been dreaming, this _must_ have been just another twisted nightmare, it _couldn't_ be real. It was too horrible, too vile, too _monstrous._

"Nileshy," Zylus said.

He shook his head vehemently and whimpered, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't do this. Zylus was right, he was sick, sick and broken and—

— _dangerous,_ _Liam, you understand, don't you? That's why we've got to do this. It's not just for your own good, it's for the good of everyone around you. You can't help it. But we can fix you, Liam, I swear we_ _will_ _fix you. . . ._

"Nileshy," Zylus said again, closer this time, his voice soft and tender. Again, Nilesy could only shake his head, too sick with himself to move or speak or think.

Zylus put his hands on Nilesy's arms, his touch gentle.

"It'sh okay, Nileshy," he said. "I'm okay. You didn't hurt me. It'sh all right."

Nilesy's breath hitched as he tried to wrestle himself back under control. That voice was still ringing in his ears, clipped and professional, leaving him feeling small and helpless and wrong.

_You need help, Liam. We're getting it for you. We're going to fix you, somehow._

Zylus drew him into a hug, holding him close and murmuring apologies in his ear.

"I'm shorry," he said. "I shouldn't have pushed sho hard. I'm shorry, Nileshy."

Resting his forehead on Zylus's shoulder, Nilesy finally managed to catch his breath. He took his hands off his mouth and gently pushed Zylus away.

"No, I— _I'm_ sorry," he said. "It's . . . my fault. You're—you're right. I'm sorry."

Zylus took a deep breath and sighed it out again. His hands were still warm on Nilesy's shoulders.

"It'sh going to be all right, Nileshy," he said. "We're going to figure thish out."

_We're going to figure this out. We'll find a way, Liam._

"Right," said Nilesy, not looking at him.

Zylus paused. "Nileshy?" he said quietly, apprehensive. "Whoshe voishe ish that?"

Startled, Nilesy looked up at him, drawing back. Zylus took a step away and raised his hands.

"It'sh loud," he said. "I can hear it from out here."

There was a fist clenching around Nilesy's throat, strangling him inch by inch. His eyes flicked to the mask again, so close and so tempting.

"Some other time," said Nilesy.

Zylus clenched his jaw, but he nodded anyway.

"If you shay sho," he said.

"Zylus . . . I'm sorry. About this. About—"

Zylus waved a hand. "Forget it. I should've known better anyway. I'll be in my room if you need me."

He started to go, and Nilesy said, "I love you."

Zylus paused halfway through opening the door. He said nothing.

"I've—I never had a brother," Nilesy went on, fighting back tears. "But I'm . . . pretty sure that's what you're like to me."

"You've known me for ten monthsh, Nileshy," Zylus said quietly.

"So?" said Nilesy.

"Sho maybe you don't know me ash well ash you think you do," he said.

"Maybe I don't care."

Zylus shook his head. "Go eat shomething," he said, and left, shutting the door behind him.

 


	33. Chapter 32

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Somehow, she'd managed to call Xephos.

"Lalna's dead," she choked, her own voice sounding muffled in her ears.

 _"What?"_ Xephos said, small and hoarse and frightened.

"Lalna's _dead,"_ she repeated, voice cracking. "They're dead, Nilesy—Nilesy—"

_"Where?"_

She told him the address, as far as she knew it, the words coming out in choppy clumps.

 _"I'll be there in half an hour,"_ he said. She heard him moving about, doors closing, the breathlessness of motion. _"Tell me what happened."_

"I don't—I can't—"

_"Nano, please. I need to know. Tell me what happened to Lalna."_

Haltingly, in between the sobs, she told him everything, from the ransom video to the final, fatal touch. He must have been driving as he listened, because although he never interrupted, she could hear engine noise and the ticking of turn signals. She managed to choke the whole story out before he arrived, and in the silence that followed she could hear him breathing.

"Xephos?" she asked quietly.

 _"Five minutes,"_ he said, and hung up.

By the time he arrived, Nano had managed to pry Rythian off of Lalna's corpse and was holding him in her lap while he sobbed, while his blood soaked into her clothes. She'd had to put the respirator back on him, too, because he wouldn't or couldn't do it himself, even though she could hear the sparks cracking through his lungs.

Xephos came striding in, trailed by a team of YogLabs scientists. He stood over Lalna's ruined torso, tears glittering in his eyes, and simply stared. His gaze roved over the scattered limbs, the cracked concrete and oily water. The scientists stood and fidgeted, their faces pale and their eyes darting.

"Take them home," Xephos managed eventually. "Every bit. Every last goddamn _screw_ and _scrap,_ you understand?"

"Yes, sir," one of the scientists said. As one collective, they all pulled on blue nitrile gloves and set about picking over Lalna's remains like vultures. Six of them together heaved up the ruined torso and lugged it away; others collected the scattered limbs, and the rest tip-toed through the mess with their bowed heads sweeping back and forth. Xephos stood, his face hollow, swaying on his feet. As Nano watched, a pair of tears rolled down his cheeks, getting lost in his neat goatee.

 _"How?"_ he said, in a voice that was small and pained and _lost._ "How could I let this. . . ?"

"Xephos," she said softly. "It's not . . . it's not your fault."

"Of course it's not my fucking fault," he snapped, fists clenching. Nano recoiled, squeezing Rythian tighter to her, and Xephos sighed, putting a hand over his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Just—please go home, Dr. Sounds. And take _him_ with you." He gestured dismissively to Rythian.

"Yes, sir," she said. She practically had to drag Rythian upright, and even then he was leaning on her so heavily that it bowed her shoulders. "I'm—Xephos, I'm sorry."

He said nothing, watching the cleanup crew go about their business.

"Come on, Rythian," she murmured to Rythian, turning the both of them towards the door. "Come on, let's—let's go."

As she started away, she heard Xephos still muttering to himself in that lost, tiny voice.

"All that _work. . . ."_

* * *

 

Nano had only fuzzy memories of the hours that came after.

Someone outside, a guard or something, spotted the blood on the two of them and called an ambulance. They were both rushed to hospital. Nano stayed by Rythian's side, holding him, insisting that she was uninjured. For whatever reason, she was allowed to stay, even while he was being stitched up.

He just sat there, swaying slightly, his head bowed and his eyes downcast. He did not speak, would not move unless he was moved. Someone brought him water and he simply held it in his hand.

They insisted on checking Nano over, too, just to ensure that none of the blood was hers. They gave her salve for her burns and wrapped bandages around her fingers. No one asked what had happened, and she was grateful for it.

At some point, some YogLabs security person took her and Rythian home—it might have been the same one who had called the ambulance, or someone else entirely. Nano held Rythian through that, too, and still he seemed to be a thousand miles off inside his own head. Occasionally a tear would slip down his cheek and skate around the edge of his respirator. Half the bruises on his neck had smudged, or were running with sweat. It occurred to Nano, somewhere half-conscious, that they were fake. Even that was little relief—maybe Nilesy hadn't hurt him as badly as he'd wanted them to believe, but in the end, did it really matter?

Did any of it really _matter,_ now?

Coming home was like walking into a dream, and somewhere along the way she let Rythian slip from her grasp. She went to take a shower, to wash off the blood and slime and grit and grief, and found herself just standing there with the water pouring down. She could almost hear the tin-roof sound of it plinging off her hollowness.

Wherever the grief had come from, it had gone again. She was left with nothing—no anger, no sadness, not even confusion. It had simply happened. Lalna had died. The world had come to a crashing halt and toppled her, and someone had scooped out her insides and left her flimsy as an empty ice-cream carton. She was still here, and Lalna . . . wasn't. The fact wafted around inside her, making no impact, never sinking in. It was just words, empty, nonsensical words, leaving no scars and bearing no weight. She knew she wasn't dreaming, logically, but she felt for all the world as though she was. There _should_ have been feeling, _should_ have been emotion so cruel and so violent that it shattered her—and hadn't it already done so? Lalna was dead. It should hurt. She _should_ hurt.

But there was nothing, nothing until the water got cold and she stepped out and got dressed and wandered back into the house proper. Then there was Rythian, who was still standing right where she'd left him, and he at least needed tending, he at least was a _solvable_ problem.

"Let's get you cleaned up," she murmured to him, taking him by the arm. He trailed along like a balloon, unresisting.

She took him to her bathroom and sat him down on the toilet, then set about cleaning him up as best she could with a damp washcloth and some soap, keeping her feet on his so she wouldn't have to worry about being electrocuted. She wiped the tears from his eyes, the blood from his limbs, the false bruises from his neck and face.

The bites, she discovered, were real. Nothing else was.

She talked him through every motion of her hands, if for no other reason than to hear the sound of her own voice. He never responded, never so much as flinched, but his silence made no impact upon her. It just made him easier to deal with.

Once she'd gotten him cleaned up, she found his sweatpants and t-shirt that YogLabs had given him prior to his current outfit and told him to get changed. He managed to do this on his own, although she stayed just outside the door in case, for whatever reason, he needed help. He cracked the door open, and she took him back to the main room, settling him on the couch and telling him that she'd be right back with something for him to eat. She gathered up his bloodied clothes and threw them into the washing machine with her own, then went into the kitchen to find them both something to eat.

The baking pan of cookies was still sitting on the stovetop, long cold. The cookies were perfect, chocolate-chip and golden brown. There was flour on the counters, dirty bowls in the sink waiting to be washed. The smell of the cookies still lingered in the air.

It hit her all at once, like a rushing flood. It took her knees out from under her, dropped her to the floor, wracked her body with sobs and squeezed her heart to a fine pulp, aching through all her insides, her guts and bones and lungs, ruinous and complete.

Lalna was not coming back. No more worry-cookies, no more early-morning scrambled eggs, no more little metal flowers, no more midnight science. There would be no one to read her the morning's schedule, no one to tell her that her jokes weren't funny, no one to wash the labware while she slept. No more bottles on the bottle tree. No finishing the puzzle. No creaking floorboards, no vanishing eggs, no recorded squeals of delight or outbursts of frustration. No more eyes sunny-green from seeing her come home, no magic tricks, no miracles.

Lalna was not coming back.

Someone sat down on the floor next to her, and she found herself gathered into Rythian's arms, sobbing too hard to put up any resistance. She crumbled against him, balling her fists in his shirt, soaking his shoulder with her tears. He held her close in trembling arms, his respirator hissing in her ear. He smelled of oil and blood and soap and ozone. He spoke his first words since Lalna had died.

"They won't get away with this," he said, and there was the electric chill of a building storm in his voice.

Nano only shook her head and clutched him closer, unable to respond.

He did not speak again.

* * *

 

The next day, Rythian was up before her. The cookies were still out, but he'd put plastic wrap over them. He was drinking a cup of tea and glaring at his hands.

She sat down across from him and gathered herself.

"I think you might have some explaining to do," she said quietly.

"I don't," said Rythian, sharply.

"That Panda boy said you couldn't be trusted," Nano said. "What did he mean?"

"How the fuck should _I_ know?"

"Fake bruises," she said.

"So?"

_"Why?"_

"To _fuck_ with you," he said. "The same reason they do _anything._ The same reason they've _ever_ done _anything._ Why leave us alive? Why make that stupid—awful, horrible video? To _fuck with you."_

"Like you pretending to be really hurt?" she asked. "Was that part of fucking with me, too?"

"Not pretending," said Rythian. "Drugged."

"Awfully convenient drugs."

"Or maybe I'm just a fucking _freak,"_ he spat. His hands clenched on the mug. "Things don't work right on us. Adrenaline. Something. If you want me to leave, fine, I'll kill Nilesy on my own."

Nano's heart clenched like a fist in her chest. "You're not killing anyone," she said.

"Try and stop me," said Rythian.

"He'd rip you to shreds."

"Not if I have a bargaining chip."

"Oh, so you're stooping to their level, is that it? Is that what you've decided, Rythian?"

"Yes," he said, looking up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink, and he'd certainly been crying.

"This isn't what Lalna would want," she said, a lump rising in her throat and making her voice shake.

"Lalna's _dead,"_ Rythian snarled. A spark leapt between his elbows. "You want to wait for Xephos to catch up with Nilesy? He can't. He won't. He doesn't care."

"Rythian, _stop it."_

"No. You can help me or not, it doesn't matter. I'm killing him. And any of the others who get in my way."

"How, exactly?" she demanded. "You must have a brilliant fucking plan, if you're so sure."

"I'm taking Zylus," he said. "And I'm going to tie him to a chair and make him bleed, and if Nilesy doesn't come die for him, I'll kill him, too."

"Jesus _Christ,_ Rythian," she breathed, leaning back in her chair, her stomach unsettled.

"I'm done playing by the rules," he said. "And I'm done having _mercy."_

Nano rallied. If he wouldn't listen to reason, maybe he would at least listen to logic.

"What makes you think you can even _find_ Zylus?" she asked.

"Game store downtown," Rythian said flatly. "Can't be too many of them. Should be easy to find him."

"How do you—" she began, narrowing her eyes.

"Nilesy talks," he interrupted, his voice dark.

Nano was silent for a time. Something about the idea was terribly appealing—to throw Nilesy's own tricks back in his face, to make him hurt, to make him _pay._ But murder was too far, wasn't something she could lower herself to, not after everything she'd seen, not after everything she'd been through. It might not have been _quite_ stooping to Nilesy's level, but she wasn't going to do it anyway, because enough people had died.

Still, she thought, it wasn't the only option available.

"And you think," she said slowly, "that if you can get your hands on Zylus, Nilesy will try to get him back."

"I know," said Rythian.

"And you think you can get your hands on Zylus?"

"I know," he repeated. "All he has is telepathy and invisibility. He couldn't hurt me if he tried." He glanced up at her. "Or you."

"And what if, instead of killing Nilesy, we handed him over to the authorities?" she suggested.

"No," said Rythian. "If you want to involve YogLabs, do it on your own time. I'm killing him. You can have the others."

"Rythian—"

"Are you going to help me or not?" he said, meeting her eyes.

Nano watched him for a moment, considering her options. If she didn't agree to help, he would leave—that much he had made clear. She might never see him again, might never know the truth of what had happened to him. She felt, somehow, that she owed it to Lalna to take care of Rythian. At least she was sure they would have wanted _that._

If she _did_ agree to help, she might wind up watching him murder Nilesy, and maybe the others, maybe even Lomadia—but not if she was careful, and played her cards right, and kept very close to Rythian.

"I'll help," she said.

He nodded once, decisively.

"First we find Zylus," he said. "Then—"

 _"First,"_ Nano interrupted, "we find a place to _put_ him once we've got him. _Then_ we find him and we put him there."

"Experience?" he asked dryly.

"Common sense," she returned. "You want experience catching goons, talk to Zoey and Fiona."

Rythian dropped his gaze back to his hands, his jaw clenching.

"So we find a place to put him," he mumbled. "Where?"

Nano smiled tightly. "Why don't you let me handle that?" she said. "Get some sleep. Eat something."

"Not hungry," he said. "Not tired."

"It'd do you some good anyway," she said. She hesitated, then asked, "How long were you . . . with them?"

He froze, just for an instant, his whole body tightening.

"Not sure," he said. "Drugs and everything. A few days? Maybe a week. I don't know."

Nano softened, an ache rising in her heart. Rythian had a hunted, injured look about him, and the bruises on his neck—the very real, very _distinctive_ bruises—were proof enough that _something_ had happened to him. Considering their nature, it wouldn't be surprising if he was reluctant to talk about how he'd gotten them, especially if drugs really had been involved. It made her stomach turn, thinking about it, about the hungry kiss in the video, the casual intimacy of Nilesy's gloved hands.

It wasn't impossible, she thought, that Lalna's death wasn't the only reason Rythian wanted Nilesy dead so badly.

"Rythian," she said quietly. "Please have something to eat. We're not going to get anything much done today. I can manage most of it on my own anyway. It'll be a lot easier if you'll take care of yourself, so I don't have to."

He sat for a time, chewing his cheeks under his respirator.

"Fine," he said eventually, and got up from the table. He left his cold tea behind.

While he was rummaging in the kitchen, Nano snuck off to her room and made a call. It was answered on the third ring.

 _"Yes?"_ came the tired, hollow voice.

"It's me," said Nano. "I hate to bother you, but something's come up. I think I can get you Nilesy and the others, if you want them, but it's going to be a bit complicated."

There was a brief hesitation. _"I'm listening,"_ Xephos said.

* * *

 

Nano sat down on the armchair in the living room, settling her computer in her lap. A few days had passed, and a modicum of progress had been made. She'd mostly left Rythian alone through it, and he'd kept to himself as well. Now, hunched like a vulture on the couch, he looked up at her.

"I've found a place to cage up our little bird," she said. She turned the laptop towards him, showing an image of a worn-down concrete building. "It's an old storage house. Totally empty, except for a few crates nobody wanted. Technically YogLabs owns it, but we haven't been using it for anything, either. I've already rigged up a little hostage chair in there—yesterday, when I was out. I went to check on it, and since it seemed fine, I went ahead and . . . yeah."

"Great," Rythian said shortly. "Is that it?"

Nano bit back the sharp retort that rose to her tongue and forced herself to remain composed. He had every right to be angry, she reminded herself, and snapping at him wouldn't make him any less likely to take it out on her.

"I would really appreciate it," she said, "if you wouldn't be _quite_ so short with me. I get that you're upset, but honestly, I _am_ trying to help."

Rythian was silent for a moment, then said, "Sorry."

"Thank you. _Now._ I've also been poking about seeing if I can find where Zylus works. All I've got to go on is his name, which we managed to trawl up the first time you . . . ran into him."

His eyes narrowed slightly, his hands clenched, but he said nothing. Nano carried on, watching him closely.

"I'm afraid I haven't got much. He used his debit card this morning to buy a coffee in the Severn area, but we already know that's their territory. It doesn't really help."

"How do you know?" Rythian asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "About the coffee."

"I pulled some strings," she answered lightly, waving a hand. "Division stuff. I owe a couple of favors now, don't worry about it."

The strings in question had been attached to Xephos and Pyrion, and they had pulled a few strings of their own. Xephos had assured her that no favors were necessary, and Pyrion had let her know that, even if the whole thing went tits-up, he was certain he could make a water-tight case and keep her out of legal trouble.

"Okay," said Rythian, "so?"

"So I'm pretty sure he's at work today," said Nano. "So that's something we've got going for us. Unfortunately I couldn't manage to get access to prior records on his card, like paychecks, so there's no leads as to _where_ he's working today."

"Very helpful. Thanks for the update."

"You're _welcome,"_ she said pointedly. "I was hoping you could help."

"I don't know anything," he said.

"I'm sure Nilesy talked to you."

His fists clenched, his eyes went hard. "No," he said.

"Rythian—"

"He didn't say fucking _anything,"_ he said. "And even if he _did,_ I don't remember. Sorry, I think it's the fucking drugs. I've been trying to kick the habit, but it's really hard when people stick them in you without your consent."

Nano rubbed at her face. Something about Rythian's tone rang less than true, or at least less than honest, and it was setting her teeth on edge.

"If there's _anything_ you can remember," she insisted, "about where they were keeping you, anything one of them said that might help—"

 _"Nothing,"_ Rythian spat, glaring at her.

"Maybe if you just thought about it for a bit—"

"No."

"It might help, Rythian."

"It might help _you._ I'm not doing it. I'm not thinking about it. I'm not going back there."

Nano ground her teeth for a moment, then sighed.

"Okay," she said, shrugging. "Sorry I asked. I'll keep looking for Zylus the old-fashioned way. Let you know what I come up with."

"What's the _old-fashioned way?"_ he asked.

"Guesswork and Google," she said. "Unfortunately, there's a _lot_ of people named Zach Lucas, and these game stores have a lovely habit of not listing all their employees online."

"Sounds efficient," he said, rolling his eyes.

"If you remember anything," said Nano, "let me know, and I might be able to make it go a bit faster."

Rythian was quiet for a moment, frowning down at his hands.

"Have you tried calling?" he said.

"Calling?" she asked.

"The stores. And asking for _Zach_ or whatever."

Nano opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Old-fashioned," she said.

 


	34. Chapter 33

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The morning after the fight with Nilesy, Zylus woke up early for work.

Panda was already up and buzzing about in the kitchen like a hummingbird, bits of thought flaking out of his head like glitter, dusting the air around him. Lomadia was trying to sleep, her mind warm and fuzzy and quiet.

In Nilesy's room there was a black swamp of guilt, oozing under the door like tar, reeking of shame. Zylus could feel it pushing on his head like the pressure of too-deep water, digging thumbs into his eyes, his ears, his throat. He shut it out as best he could, but he might as well have tried to keep from feeling the floor under his feet.

"Morning," he said to Panda, who had put the kettle on.

_Morning—hi—Zy hello—tea on—yelling I heard yelling—wrong with Niles—scared—you're all right—_

"Morning!" Panda chirped in response, speaking over the rapid tumble of his own thoughts. "S'pose you've got work today, then."

"Mm," said Zylus. "Don't worry about Nileshy. I kind of pisshed him off, but he'sh okay. Sho am I, by the way."

"O-oh," said Panda, blinking. "Right? Super, okay. Good to know."

_Awful lot of yelling—sure you're all right—fucking Rythian goddammit—not all right—that noise was not—hasn't come out of his room—_

Zylus glanced up at him. "Sherioushly," he said. "It'sh fine. Thingsh got a little . . . heated, yesh, but we're okay."

This in blatant defiance of the deep-water feeling of Nilesy's distress still pressing on his skull. His shoulders still smarted and ached from being slammed into the wall on the strength of his own assorted fluids, the back of his head was still throbbing.

But to be fair, he had _deserved_ that, because he hadn't gotten anything from Nilesy he hadn't been deliberately fishing for. He probably deserved to be stewing in the spillover of Nilesy's guilt, too.

Probably more than Nilesy did.

Panda ducked his head, and the scramble of thoughts blurred by so fast that Zylus could only catch brief impressions of them—embarrassment, worry, relief.

"Well that's . . . good to know," he said. "The paper's here, if you want it."

"No thanksh," said Zylus. Trying to do anything, much less something that required focus, with Panda's thoughts chattering in his ear _and_ all the rank impressions spilling over from Nilesy, would be frustrating at best.

"No?" Panda asked, frowning.

_Something wrong—hurt you—upset? Upset—not fine not fine not fine—something wrong with Niles—_

Zylus sighed. "There'sh only sho many crosshwordsh you can do before you get tired of them," he said, the baldfaced lie coming smooth off his tongue. "Might pick up Shudoku nexsht, though."

"Oh," said Panda, and the volume of his thoughts dropped by two notches, falling to a mumble. As the kettle whistled and he tended to it, the glittery hummingbird sense of his mind settled back into place, his worries assuaged, at least temporarily.

Zylus let out a breath and rubbed his temple. He made a note to himself to figure out how Sudoku worked, and to learn how to do it, because now he _had_ to.

Damn his lying mouth. He _could_ have just told the truth, but _no,_ it was oh-so much more important to keep Panda from worrying too much.

"Any finalsh today?" he asked, trying to haul his own thoughts back before they darted off into a downward spiral.

"Not today, no," said Panda, "but my blood sugar was _fucked_ last night, and there's no getting back to sleep when it's decided to go mad on me. Besides, I've got a study group thing happening. Figured I might as well go ahead and get up so I could do _some_ of the work beforehand."

The mutter of his thoughts took on a distinctly _smug_ air, leaving them round and warm.

"One day all thish procrashtinating ish going to come back and bite you in the assh," Zylus said.

"But it is not this day!" Panda proclaimed, and his mind echoed the words in the voice of their original speaker.

"Ish that _Lord of the Ringsh?"_ Zylus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Is it?" said Panda. "I dunno. Probably. I've been looking into Tolkein, sort of. He does lots of poems, it's weird comparing them to the stuff he's imitating."

"That bad?"

"No, he's really _good_ at it, it's no fair."

Zylus snorted. He was about to respond when the timbre of Nilesy's thoughts shifted, dropping in pitch and volume until they were little more than a foul murmur. He stiffened, listening more closely—but not _too_ closely.

Never too closely. Never again.

He caught a few snatches of thought, drenched with swamp water and crawling across the floor like half-drowned rats.

 _No . . . Panda . . . easy . . . want . . . need . . . can't . . ._ _ hurt him _ _. . . need—need—need—_

"Oh, fuck," Zylus muttered, putting his head in his hands. "There he fucking goesh _again."_

"What?" said Panda, turning around. His mind kicked back up again, drowning out the quiet gurgling of Nilesy's.

_Something wrong something wrong something really really wrong—again what again—not well he's not at all—not drowning I can't—_

"Drowning," Zylus said. "Again."

Right on cue, there was a muffled _thunk_ from Nilesy's room. His thoughts were crescendoing, the words running together in a viscous mush, pouring out under the door and flooding the room.

"Oh, God _dammit,"_ Panda said, pain tinting his mind red and leaving his thoughts prickling. He was whirring along too fast for Zylus to follow, and between that and the ever-rising tide of black torment from Nilesy, Zylus felt like he was going to be sick.

"I have to go," he said, standing suddenly and snatching up his laptop bag. "I'll shee you tonight. Don't let him shtay in there—"

_More than an hour he'll suffocate—low volume stagnant hypoxic water—why the hell can't Lom—_

"Yeah, I know," Panda snapped, cutting off both Zylus and his own thoughts.

"I'm shorry," Zylus said, settling his glasses on his face. "I wish I could help, but it'sh jusht—"

Panda sighed, and again, his thoughts dropped in volume as he fought himself under control. By that point, Nilesy had gotten so loud that Zylus could barely hear anything else.

"It's fine," Panda said. "I've got it. You got him last time, anyways."

"Thanksh, Panda," Zylus said, smiling tightly. "Shee you later."

As Zylus was leaving, Nilesy hit whatever breaking point he had and the crashing thunder of his mind went static-silent, fever hot and blurred. Zylus nearly tripped on his way down the stairs—it was like having the rug pulled out from under him, every time, and it never got any easier.

He focused himself, walking out to his car with his eyes on the ground at his feet. The farther away he got, the easier things became, until there was only the idle chatter of the complex around him, the muggy silence of Nilesy's mind buried underneath it.

Breathing right for the first time since the warehouse, Zylus headed off to get himself some coffee before work.

* * *

 

The cashier was not having a good day.

For one thing, people kept misgendering her—calling her _mister_ and _sir,_ punching holes through her soul and leaving bleeding edges. Zylus was already on edge before even walking in the coffee shop, and that festering mess of dysphoria pulled his nerves out taut as piano wires.

The woman behind him in line thought he was cute—thought it very loudly, along with a few ancillary things—and it was with a fair amount of discomfort that he shifted his messenger bag to lie over his ass. He could feel the woman's disappointment like cold water in his stomach.

There had to be a way, he mused, struggling to keep his own thoughts afloat on the bubbling sea of other minds that filled the coffee shop, to make that cashier's day a little better. He could call her _ma'am_ when he got his coffee. That might help—just a quick, _thanks, ma'am._ Although that sounded too formal, and _thanks, girl_ sounded too patronizing, or at least too stupid. He decided on _thanks, miss._ It wasn't much, and he'd lisp it horribly, but no one else was doing it, and if there was anything he could do to ease that inflamed and ragged pain—

"Sir?" the cashier said.

 _Please just order,_ Zylus heard her think. _Jesus, I need a break, I need to get out of here, just order and don't say anything else, just get your fucking coffee and go._

"Um," said Zylus, stalled. He'd been so busy thinking about the cashier that he'd completely forgotten that he was in line for coffee. A sweaty blush rose up from his waist to his hairline, leaving him fidgeting. "I—um, i-if I can jusht get a—um—jusht like, a regular . . . coffee. Pleashe. Shorry."

 _You were in line for_ _five fucking minutes_ _how do you not know what the fuck you want Jesus Christ I fucking hate people,_ the cashier thought.

"Sure!" she chirped. "What size?"

The berating venom of the cashier's thoughts had gotten into the wrinkles of Zylus's brain, eating at him like acid. Sweat was running down the insides of his arms and he was seized by the compulsion to just _check_ to see if anyone had noticed, because dear God, please don't let them have noticed it was bad enough as it was—

"Jusht—jusht um, reg-regular?" he guessed. The woman behind him thought his lisp was cute, damn her, and the man waiting for his order needed a smoke so bad it was like fingernails down Zylus's spine and someone had an exam later and they were cramming so many words into their head that it was all coming back out their ears—

 _Fucking weirdo,_ the cashier thought, ringing him up with a smile. _At least he's keeping his stupid opinions to himself._

"Two seventy-one," she said to Zylus.

He fumbled for his wallet, sweating fingers slipping on the faux-leather, the cash—and fucking hell why didn't he have any bills smaller than a twenty, that would be _hell_ to break—and now the people in line were getting impatient and he could _feel_ it happening, tick by tick like an egg-timer counting down, and the cashier was thinking all _sorts_ of things about him and how fucking _long_ he was taking, and in a fit of desperation he just took out his card and handed it over.

He knew it was an incredibly stupid risk, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The cashier finished ringing him up and handed him back his card and his receipt, which he just stuffed into his pocket for the sake of getting out of the way. All he said was a mumbled _thanks,_ not even managing to spit out something affirming like he'd planned. He scurried off to hide against the window, trying to get his heart to stop pounding. He let himself listen to the silent chatter rising off the patrons of the shop, to see if any of them were still thinking about him, still harboring secret resentments. It made his head swell with pain, but it was worth it for the confirmation that no, nobody cared, nobody even remembered he'd existed because he was that unimportant to them.

He scrubbed at his face with one hand and discreetly checked to see if his nose was bleeding. It wasn't, and he reigned himself in before it got the chance to start. His coffee came up a few minutes later, and he took it with a rather more sincere _thanks._ Getting back into his car was like stepping into an air-conditioned room, and cranking the music up too loud was the iced glass of lemonade on top.

Zylus managed to drive the rest of the way to work without much incident, apart from a couple spots of other people's road rage that left him dizzy and seeing red out of one eye.

Faridah was already at the front desk when he came in, her thoughts gummy and groggy, her chin propped on her hand.

"Hey Faridah," he said, ducking behind the desk to stand next to her. "I like that hijab, it looksh good on you."

"Yeah?" she said, brightening.

 _Makes me look too dark,_ she thought.

"Yeah," Zylus said. "It goesh really well with your complexshion. Really makesh you glow."

She made a face and rolled her eyes. "Well, thanks," she said.

 _Nice one, white boy,_ she thought.

"Welcome," said Zylus, and settled in for a slow day.

* * *

 

By late afternoon, Zylus was so bored that he was listening to the song stuck in Faridah's head and doodling on the receipt paper.

"Whatcha drawing?" Faridah asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Shquidsh," said Zylus, mumbling out of the corner of his mouth because he was propping his face up on his hand.

"They look like dicks," Faridah said. Zylus glared at her.

 _Dicks with tentacles,_ she thought. _They've popped off and gone for a swim._

"Get your mind out of the gutter," he snapped. "Fuck'sh shake."

"Who's shaking fucks, now?" she inquired, grinning.

"I'll shake _your—"_ he began, jabbing his pencil at her. Just then, the bell over the door jingled and cut him off.

A middle-aged woman, dark-skinned and gray-haired, stepped inside, her mind all aflutter with nerves. She was frustrated, antsy, sliding down the rough slope of discouragement towards resignation.

"Hi," said Faridah, "welcome to Revival Games, can I help you?"

"I hope so," she answered, coming up to the counter. Her thoughts were frizzing out of her head, gray as her hair.

_Ellos no lo tendrán tampoco. Nadie lo tiene. Olvídalo._

Zylus worked to keep the wince off his face. His Spanish was rudimentary, at best, so he'd have to work with feelings and imagery alone, since he couldn't make head or tail of what she was actually thinking.

"Well, we'll se what we can do," said Faridah. "What d'you need?"

"I'm looking for a game," said the woman. "It's an old game. It was my favorite when I was growing up, it must've been—oh, God, twenty, thirty years ago."

"Do you remember what it was called? We haven't got a _huge_ stock, but we might have it, and if we don't, we can find it."

"I don't," the woman said, wincing. "I'm sorry. It was so long ago, I just got to thinking about it, and—well, it was really important to me at the time, and I just—maybe wanted to get ahold of it again."

"Zach?" said Faridah. "Think you can help?"

 _If he can't get it, nobody can,_ she thought. _Use your wizard powers, Zach. Do the magic trick._

Zylus slid his doodles of squids—which really did look unfortunately phallic—off to one side and focused his attention on the customer.

"Can you deshcribe the cover?" he asked her.

This was a trick question, and his favorite by far. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, anyone who was asked it would immediately, involuntarily picture the cover in their head. They would keep it so close to the forefront of their mind as they described it that hardly any expenditure of Power was necessary to peek in and see it. Most people did this with most questions, but Zylus usually let them answer anyway, even when he wasn't under cover at work, because people liked to hear themselves talk.

Right on cue, an image swam up in the woman's mind, grimy and blurred like an impressionist painting left to rot. She spoke, but Zylus didn't bother listening too closely—she was only describing what he already saw.

A hulking figure. Dusty skies. Blue lights. A man on a horse.

"Shoundsh like, maybe, _Shadow of the Colosshush?"_ Zylus guessed.

"That's it!" the woman cried.

 _How does he_ _do_ _that?_ Faridah thought, marveling and jealous.

"I'll shee if we have it in shtock," Zylus said, turning to the computer and wiggling the mouse to wake it up. "If we don't, I can order you a copy."

"You're a life saver," she told him earnestly, and her mind was hearth-warm with gratitude. He shrugged, blushing, and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

As he started searching for a copy of the game, first in the store's records, then in general, a sense of anxiety overtook him. It was like someone was blowing up a balloon too big, the air hissing in breath by breath and stretching green latex so thin it was translucent. Breath by breath, the tension grew greater and greater until it was unbearable. His hands started shaking, his vision went blurry, his heart pounded in his chest and his ears rang. He sat staring at the computer, unseeing, unmoving, scarcely able to breathe. Something _awful_ was going to happen, any second now, somewhere or somehow the world was going to just _pop_ and all the strain-thin latex of its fabric would come snapping back in his face with welting violence.

"Zach?" Faridah asked, her voice distant and muffled. He couldn't respond, could barely even process the sound of his own name. There was a terrible thunder on the horizon, a storm crackling with purple lightning and spitting with hail, seething from its own turmoil.

He recognized it just a moment too late.

The bell over the door tinkled. The thunder in his ears was deafening. He barely heard the woman speak, her voice silver-edged with rage and thinned by grief.

"Zachary Lucas?"

He knew her voice, and under the thunder, he could hear her thoughts tumbling in a turbulence of their own.

 _Let it be over. Don't run. Please don't run. I can't. I want to go home. I want this to be over. Don't make me do this. I miss them. I miss them. I want to go_ _ home. _ _The place before the lights came on. I miss them. I miss them._

But in the face of that grit-toothed tension, he couldn't so much as lift his head, for fear that it would shatter the whole world.

"You don't have to ask," said Rythian, and his voice was full of knives. "That's him."

"Sorry," Faridah cut in, moving to stand in front of Zylus, "but just what the hell is going on here?"

 _Please get out of the way, please don't make this difficult, I can't take it, I want to go home,_ Dr. Sounds thought.

"YogLabs PID," she said. "That man is an accomplice to murder."

And the images swam up in her mind, distorted by trauma, full of holes and stinging, hot and swollen as a broken bone. Zylus shut his eyes and tried to pull his mind back into his own head, tried to close off his senses, but all it did was leave him with the thunder and the ever-inflating balloon around it.

 _"What?"_ Faridah cried. Her mind leapt up all bronze and spears, flint-eyed with aggression.

"Oh my God," the customer gasped, stepping back, her thoughts recoiling in horror and panic.

"You've got the wrong guy," Faridah said, and the absolute conviction of her was like a steel cable wrapped around his throat.

"No," Rythian said darkly. Every word struck against the straining walls of his own mind, threatening to burst it. "We really don't."

"He's coming with us," Dr. Sounds said. "Like it or not."

 _Please don't be a hero I'm so sorry God I'm sorry I wish you didn't like him I wish I didn't have to do this I want to go_ _ home _ _I just want this to be_ _ over _ _I don't want to do this I miss them I miss them I miss them I just want Lal back I don't want to be_ _ doing _ _this—_

"Then you're going to have to go through _me,"_ Faridah snarled, bringing her fist down on the desk.

Rythian's overinflated mind swelled up one more breath and exploded. Zylus felt it like a concussion, a shattering of the air and the world and all the bones in his body, a crack in the sky that let all the cold empty space beyond come spilling in like a hurricane. It knocked his breath out, left him reeling, left his mind spinning with violence that wasn't his own.

Faridah dead, smoking and charred, flung against the wall. The computer in fragments. The store in flames.

Zylus screaming on the ground, his flesh boiling under Rythian's bare hands.

 _"No!"_ he blurted, tumbling out of his chair and somehow landing on his feet, his hands pushing Faridah aside of their own accord, anything to get her out of the line of fire. He could barely see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe. The fury of Rythian's thoughts lashed at him like stinging rain and howling winds, lightning striking all around him. Somehow, amidst the mess, he managed to pick out Dr. Sounds, who was standing like a brick building amidst the storm, assailed but sturdy nonetheless.

She just wanted to go home.

"I'll go with you," Zylus went on, holding out his hands with his wrists together. "I'll come quietly."

"Zach, what the hell—" Faridah began.

 _"Shut the fuck up,"_ he hissed at her, panic driving needles through his words. She recoiled from him, doubt tarnishing the bronze shields of her certainty.

"Like _hell_ you will," Rythian growled. There was a crackle of ozone in his words, hair-raising portent of the lighting to come.

Zylus couldn't hear what Dr. Sounds thought, not with Rythian still roaring in his ears, but he knew that she was tired and that she was scared and that she could hear the thunder in Rythian's voice, too.

"Rythian, stop," she said. Her next words were directed at Zylus. "You, come out from there."

Unsteady on his feet, Zylus ducked out from behind the desk, keeping his hands clearly in view, never moving too quickly. Dr. Sounds took a pair of handcuffs from her belt and secured his arms behind his back. Having her hands on him was like ducking in out of the wind and the driving rain, like having a grounded awning over his head.

Even standing so close to Rythian, he was safe from the storm, if only for a moment, if only by an inch.

"Come on," Dr. Sounds said, gripping his arm with both hands and tugging him towards the door.

Zylus went with her, mute and meek, and listened to the machine-gun sputter of Rythian's rage as it ran up against the windowpanes of his new, fragile shelter. It wouldn't rest, wouldn't blow itself out anytime soon, but it could, at least, be delayed. Directed. Given a lightning rod amidst its senseless chaos.

Keeping his head down and his mouth shut, Zylus started, urgently, to plan.

 


	35. Chapter 34

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Heading back out of the game store, with Nano guiding Zylus along by his arm, Rythian _seethed._

It wasn't right. It wasn't _fair._ The stupid little bastard had looked so _scared,_ had looked like a rabbit about to bolt, and Rythian had been so very ready to chase him, to rip the shop to shreds and break everything he could get his hands on, including and _especially_ Zylus.

And then, infuriatingly, Zylus had _given up._

That wasn't how this was supposed to go. The villains were supposed to posture and monologue and _fight back,_ not hold out their hands and _volunteer_ to go quietly.

If Nano hadn't been holding on to him, Rythian just might have laid hands on Zylus anyway, simply for the pleasure of watching him burn.

Nano put Zylus in the front passenger's seat of her company car, relegating Rythian to the back. He sat behind Nano and glared at the back of Zylus's head. He was well within arm's reach. Nano wouldn't be able to stop him if he just extended one finger. . . .

Zylus looked back over his shoulder at Rythian, his expression a mixture of alarm and disapproval. He said nothing, but Rythian flushed anyway and folded his arms.

"All right," Nano said, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door. "Mr. Lucas, you're going to sit in that seat and not make any funny moves, and you're going to keep your mouth shut the whole way or I'm going to gag you. If you _do_ make any funny moves, it'll be up to Rythian to restrain you, and he might forget to put on his gloves first. D'you understand?"

"Yesh," Zylus said meekly.

"Cut the act, you lying son of a bitch," Rythian snarled, sparks skittering all over his skin.

"Rythian," Nano warned sharply. "If he _doesn't_ make any funny moves, you _don't_ touch him. At all. For any reason."

"I _wouldn't,"_ Rythian said.

Again, Zylus fixed him with a dubious look. Rythian's teeth clenched. He was _right there,_ it would be so _easy_ to just reach out—

"Good," said Nano. She started the car and put it in gear, then pulled out of her parking space and headed for the main road. "Because like it or not, we need him." Throwing a barbed glance at Zylus, she added, "At the moment, don't get full of yourself."

Zylus took a breath, as though he was going to reply, and then let it out again slowly. He shifted his gaze to the window and sat still, his mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed.

The rest of the car trip was undertaken in silence. It was an hour-long drive, out of the downtown area and into an old industrial park that was half deserted and half run-down. Nano parked in front of an empty, concrete-walled storehouse and turned off the car. She opened her door, then looked over at Zylus.

"If you're thinking about running," she said, "I'd try thinking about something else. Because first of all, I'd catch you, and second of all, right now I'd prefer to have you in mint condition. That might change if you make yourself troublesome. Can your little mind-reading powers tell how serious I am?"

"Yesh," said Zylus, still in that mousy voice.

"Good. Rythian, if he tries to run for it, catch him. I'd prefer two-handed, but I'm not picky."

She got out of the car and slammed her door. As she walked around to the other side of the car, Zylus watched her.

"You're not fooling anybody," Rythian hissed at him.

"Who caresh?" Zylus asked, his voice dripping with distaste. "It'sh not like I can _do_ anything."

Nano opened his door and reached in to pull him out of the car. He went along with her, putting up no resistance whatsoever, keeping his eyes lowered and his face blank.

When Rythian got out of the car, he slammed the door so hard that the window shattered. Nano looked back at him in alarm, and Zylus flinched at the sound. Rythian took a deep breath and sighed it out through his nose, trying to get himself back under control before he started arcing massively.

"Sorry," he said tightly.

"Maybe it's best you wait outside," Nano said. "I think I can handle him."

"Fine," said Rythian. He folded his arms and watched her take Zylus into the storehouse. Once the door had shut behind them, he crossed to the window by the door and peered in, just in case something interesting happened.

Nano sat Zylus down in the chair provided for him and secured him there. At one point, he must have said something, because she jabbed a finger at him and he flinched away from her like she was yelling. After that, he sat quietly and let her truss him up, watching her every movement.

When he was secured, Nano stood herself in front of him and folded her arms. She spoke briefly, and Zylus watched her. When she was done, she turned on her heel and stalked out. He watched her go, his focus unwavering.

Nano came out of the storehouse and shut the door behind her, then locked it tightly. She sighed and swallowed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Look, Rythian, I've got some things I have to fool with back at the lab," she said. "It shouldn't take _too_ long, but it's—what with YogLabs and everything, I've got to at least _look_ like I'm still working, and this has all been a bit sudden—"

"It's fine," said Rythian. "Go."

"You're sure you'll be all right on your own?"

"Yes," he said, although _all right_ was not the descriptor he would have chosen for himself.

"Right," Nano said. "Okay, just . . . make sure he doesn't go anywhere and make sure nobody comes to get him. I shouldn't be more than a couple hours."

"Okay," said Rythian.

"Don't hurt him."

"I won't."

"I really mean it, Rythian. I know you're angry, but honestly, this will work a lot better if he's in one piece."

"I know," he said.

"Do you? Or are you just saying that so I'll leave and you can go in there and kill him?"

"I _know,"_ he repeated testily.

"All right, good." She jabbed a finger at him. "And _don't_ talk to him, either."

"Why would I talk to him?" he demanded, bristling.

"I haven't the foggiest, but if the fancy takes you, _don't do it._ I don't buy his helpless prisoner act for one second, and whatever tricks he's got up his sleeve, it'll be pretty damn hard for him to use them if no one's talking to him."

"I'm not _going_ to," Rythian growled.

Nano looked him up and down critically, then nodded. "Good," she said. "Got everything you need? Food, water—"

"Yes, I'm fine," he said.

Nano spent another moment peering at him. "Rythian," she said softly.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"You don't have to do this. You've been through a hell of a lot, it's okay to just take some time to process—"

"Would you _stop?"_ he interrupted. "Christ, you sound like _him."_ He jerked his head at the storehouse door.

He froze an instant later, his blood going thick in his veins. Nano narrowed her eyes and folded her arms.

"Do I?" she asked softly.

"Just—no, it's just—" Rythian stammered, panic bubbling in his stomach, dissolving his anger on the instant.

"In what way, Rythian, do I sound like _him?"_

"I—I meant—"

 _You're fucked,_ his brain hissed at him. _You're fucked, you're absolutely, totally fucked._

He swallowed and looked away, putting a hand over his eyes.

"They all . . . said a lot of stuff," he said, his voice choked. "I don't know. Maybe to—to try and get me to join, or—just to fuck with me, I don't _know._ Just—just please . . . don't. Do that."

Nano was silent for a long time, and Rythian could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, the quiet tinnitus sound of his dynamo whirring along.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," Nano said at last. "God, Rythian, I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

He shook his head, fighting to keep from visibly sagging with relief. He went ahead and let his hands tremble as much as they wanted to, though, because it fit the character he was playing.

"You couldn't have known," he said.

Again, Nano was quiet for a long moment. "If you . . . need anything, Rythian, um. I'm here. Okay? Even just to talk, or . . . whatever. If you need me, I'm here."

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground, his face turned away. A mass of slimy guilt had squirmed to life in his guts, making him sick.

"Thank you," he managed.

Nano hesitated, then sighed. "I'll see you in a couple hours, I guess. But if you need anything before then, don't hesitate to call, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"Take care, Rythian," Nano said gently. "And—really, seriously, please don't talk to him."

"I really, seriously don't want to," he said.

"Right," she said, clearly uncomfortable. "Of course. Um. Right. See you later."

"Later," he said.

She headed off, and he put his back to the storehouse door and buried his face in his hands.

This, he thought, was how monsters were made.

* * *

 

An hour had passed. Rythian stood facing the storehouse door, fiddling with his gloves, looking over his shoulder so often it had given him a crick in his neck.

"Not for another hour, at least," he muttered to himself. "She'll never know."

He turned his eyes to the door and adjusted his gloves again. His hands were sweating inside them, moisture pooling in the fingertips and sliding down his wrists whenever he raised his hands too high. He took a deep breath and swallowed down his nerves.

"She's not here," he told himself. "She won't know. She'll _never_ know."

One last time, he glanced over his shoulder. There was no one behind him. He sighed, tugged at his gloves, and stepped into the old storehouse.

It was dark inside, the late afternoon light filtering in gray through the high windows. The walls and floor were gray, too, the high rafters covered in dust. There were heaps of old boxes and crates, rusty-hinged doors accessed by rickety catwalks. In the center of the open floor, there was a chair, bolted down.

In the chair sat Zylus, bound but not gagged, trussed up so tight he could barely move. He was watching Rythian closely, his face grim.

"Hello," Rythian said. His feet were almost silent on the cold concrete floor as he approached Zylus.

"I'm not going to shell you out," Zylus said.

Rythian stopped in his tracks, taken off-guard. He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean I'm not going to tell Nano," he said. He was sitting still, although his shirt was askew from where he had been struggling.

"She could be listening right—"

"Really?" Zylus interrupted. "Are you really trying to pull that shit with _me?"_

Rythian ground his teeth and fumed.

"Why?" he said. "Why not tell her? You'd do anything to save your own skin."

"Firsht of all, that wouldn't shave _anyone'sh_ shkin," he pointed out, "and shecond of all: becaushe the _shecond_ I tell her you were working with ush, she'll have you thrown in YogLabsh prishon, and _you will never shee the light of day again."_

Rythian recoiled from the conviction in Zylus's voice.

"That's not true," he said.

"Ishn't it? Okay, I'll trusht you, shinshe you clearly know more about what goesh on in her head than I do."

"Shut up," Rythian snapped. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you're not just going to sell me out anyway?"

"Becaushe if I wash going to, I would have done it by now," he said. "Like I didn't have the chanshe? You couldn't shtop me. Whether you trusht me or not doeshn't make any differenshe, unlessh you're planning on killing me today. Which we both know you're not."

"Plans change," Rythian said darkly.

"It'll be a little fucking difficult to get Nileshy to come running if all you're offering him ish a corpshe," Zylus said. "It'll jusht pissh him off. You've sheen what he'sh like when he'sh angry. Do you really want that pointed at _you?"_

"Been there, done that, got the broken ribs," Rythian said. "It'll be a lot harder for him to kill me when he's dead."

Zylus threw his head back and laughed. "You really think you could take him? All you've got are teleportation powersh you're too fucking shtupid to ushe half the time—"

"Shut up!" he snapped, ire rising hot under his skin.

"Oh, sho you _wanted_ to be shtuck up in the air while Nileshy crushed you to death?" he asked, mocking.

 _"Get out of my fucking head,"_ he growled.

"Or what? You reshort to violenshe? I think they call that _torture_ out in the real world."

Rythian's jaw tightened, and he was on the verge of snapping out a sharp retort when a _viciously_ cruel idea occurred to him.

He met Zylus's eyes and imagined, as vividly as he could, kissing him.

Zylus recoiled instantly, like he'd been slapped.

"What the fuck ish _wrong_ with you?" he said, his lip curling. He turned his head away from Rythian, as though he was drenched in something disgusting.

Rythian thought about how _nice_ it would be to take that shirt off him, to touch his bare chest and shoulders, kiss his neck and toy with his nipples. Zylus gagged.

 _"Shtop,"_ he choked, his voice thick with revulsion.

"Get out of my head," Rythian said sweetly, "and you won't have to see it."

"You're fucking _shick,"_ Zylus accused.

Idly, Rythian thought of a few things that Zylus could do with his mouth _other_ than talk. Zylus folded like he'd been punched in the gut and dry-heaved, twisted to one side like he was trying not to throw up on his own legs.

"Should I keep going?" Rythian asked.

 _"No,"_ Zylus begged, his eyes watering. He'd turned a rather unpleasant shade of waxy green.

Rythian considered a few details of the scenario—how Zylus's hair would feel clenched in his fist, how he would gasp and choke and wriggle, how his breath would feel against Rythian's skin. Zylus didn't react, and Rythian dropped the thoughts immediately, his skin crawling, stomach churning.

"Good," he spat. "Maybe now you'll stay out of my fucking head."

"When doesh it _shtop,_ Rythian?" Zylus snarled, glaring up at him. "When are you going to realishe that thish shtupid revenge kick of yoursh ish only going to get more people fucking _killed?_ When doesh it _end?"_

Rythian clenched his fists, taken aback by the outburst but unwilling to show even the slightest hint of weakness.

"When Nilesy's dead," he said quietly.

"Wrong," Zylus said. "You were _jusht_ like thish with Lalna. You hated them, you wanted them dead, but when it came right down to it, _you couldn't watch them die._ What makesh you think thish ish going to be _any_ different? When Nileshy'sh lying dead at your fucking feet, who're you going to blame nexsht? How many people are going to have to die before you—"

 _"Shut up!"_ Rythian blurted, shaking. "Shut up, you have _no idea_ what you're talking about!"

"Yesh, I do," said Zylus. "It hurt, watching Lalna die. I know, I wash there. It wash coming off you in _wavesh._ It wash like drowning all over again, only thish time nobody came to reshcue you. But the _worsht_ part washn't watching Nileshy tear them apart, or shtanding there helplessh to do anything about it. No, the _worsht_ part, the part that left you fucking _dead inshide_ wash the fact that it wash _all your fault."_

Rythian cracked all the way through, suddenly unsteady on his feet. Dust from his creaking foundations was coating his throat, leaving it dry and hoarse.

"No," he whispered.

"Yesh," Zylus said, his glare absolutely unwavering. "Do you honeshtly think we ever could have gotten ash far ash we did without you? Do you think we would've shtood _any_ chanshe againsht Lalna if they hadn't been half out of their mind worrying about you? If Nano hadn't been bushy trying to get you looshe? Thoshe two came to get you becaushe they _loved_ you, and _you got Lalna killed_ becaushe you couldn't be bothered to _think_ for two shecondsh before leaping off on your crushade! What makesh you think it'll be any different with Nileshy? Who're you going to blame onshe you've killed _him?_ Me? Nano?"

"Shut _up!"_ Rythian insisted, tears welling in his eyes. "Shut _up,_ it's—it's different!"

"How? _How_ ish it different? Enlighten me."

 _Because Nilesy doesn't love me,_ he thought, and bit back the words before they could leapt past his lips and betray him.

"Yesh," Zylus said softly, "he doesh."

Rythian's jaw dropped, and the words struck right through him, wedging into the crack in him and prying it wide open, hollowing him out to make room for a flood of pain. His anger was buoyed on top of it, a thin and flimsy defense, and he clung to it with fervor.

"Get the fuck out of my head," he snarled, advancing on Zylus with sparks skittering through his hair.

"Not in your head," Zylus answered. Although he sounded collected, he leaned back in the chair, watching Rythian's hands. "It'sh hard to missh when you think it that loud."

Rythian grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him into the back of the chair, hard. Zylus winced, but met Rythian's eyes immediately.

"You're _lying,"_ Rythian hissed at him, trembling, aching.

"Why do you think he wash sho adamant to leave you out of it?" Zylus asked. "Why do you think he fought tooth and nail to keep you from being there? He _knew_ it wash going to break you, he _knew_ you wouldn't be able to take it. He wash trying to _protect_ you, Rythian."

"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking _dare._ He was _using_ me, you were all just _using_ me—"

"You're the one who came to _him._ You ashked for hish help and he _gave_ it."

"He tried to kill me! _Twice!"_

"Didn't sheem to bother you when you were fucking hish brainsh out twishe a week," Zylus remarked dryly.

Rythian hit him, _hard._

One gloved hand still clenched on his lapel, he punched him in the mouth with all the force he could muster. He felt something crack sharply under his knuckle, felt the skin split against Zylus's teeth. Zylus yelped and Rythian hit him again. Rythian shook him as blood dribbled down his chin from a split lip.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking mention that again," he said.

"Why not?" Zylus asked. There was blood staining his teeth red, but he was smiling. "You sheemed like you were having sho much _fun."_

This time, Rythian punched him in the throat and let go. Zylus folded over in the chair, coughing violently and wheezing his breaths. By the time he straightened back up, Rythian had gotten his gloves off.

He put one hand on Zylus's throat and pressed the knuckles of the other into his diaphragm, and Zylus froze, his eyes wide with terror. Rythian tapped a finger against his throat.

"If I let go with _this_ hand," he said darkly, watching Zylus's eyes as they darted, "you probably won't die. But it will _hurt._ I don't think I can begin to describe to you how much it will hurt. Maybe if you fuck around in my head long enough, you'll find what it looks like."

There had been more than one, incautious or stubborn or just downright stupid. The burns had been horrific—charred and smoking flesh, the terrible _smell_ of it, the way they screamed and writhed, the way they twitched as their muscles were jerked by the marionette-strings of residual charge.

Zylus whimpered, his breath coming short, his heart pounding under Rythian's hands. White was showing all the way around his eyes, and blood was dripping off his chin onto Rythian's wrist. His whole being was flickering, trying to turn invisible under Rythian's hands.

"Anything you want to say?" Rythian asked through gritted teeth.

Mute and trembling, Zylus shook his head.

"That's what I _thought,"_ Rythian said. "And are you going to let a single _word_ of this slip to Nano?"

Again, he shook his head.

"Good," said Rythian. With a shove, he took his hands off of Zylus and turned away. As he stalked to the door, he heard Zylus gasping, his breath uneven and shuddering. He'd made it all the way to the door before Zylus spoke again.

"But not becaushe you threatened me," he said, his voice hoarse.

Rythian stopped, not turning around. He said nothing. Zylus sucked down a few more deep breaths.

"Becaushe you shtill don't desherve whatever thoshe shick fucksh would do to you if they caught you," he finished.

 _"You do,"_ Rythian retorted. He threw the door open and stormed out before Zylus could say another word.

He spent the entire rest of the day wandering around alone, hands in his pockets, too sick with himself to even _consider_ going home.

 


	36. Chapter 35

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The lab was just as she'd left it—lonely and hollow. Nano hurried down to take her polymers out of the oven before they got _too_ dry, and set them on the lab bench to cool. She ran through the motions of washing and centrifuging and washing again, fighting to keep her mind on the task despite it being numbingly dull. She kept thinking back to Zylus, alone in that abandoned factory, and Rythian, so wound up with rage that he was about to shatter.

She hadn't really _needed_ to get back to the lab—God knew she didn't give a damn about these experiments anymore—but being around a man who was _that angry,_ who was slamming doors and spitting curses, was so nerve-wracking that she'd simply had to get away. Decades of living as a small woman with fragile bones had left her unwilling to take chances with violent men, even ones who were supposed to be her friends.

It meant leaving Zylus to Rythian's mercy, but that was the way of things. Better him than her.

She'd said as much before she'd left, too.

"I'm not staying," she'd declared, arms folded, looking down on Zylus. He'd looked back in silence, his gaze so steady it had made her fidget.

"He probably won't hurt you," she'd gone on lightly. "Probably. Can't say you wouldn't deserve it if he did. But I _know_ he's not going to hurt _me,_ because I'm leaving. I'd try to not piss him off if I were you. Well. Piss him off _more."_

He'd said nothing. She'd fidgeted some more and shrugged.

"Right. Good. Keep that up and he might not kill you."

"You don't have to do thish," he'd said quietly.

"Don't talk," she'd snapped, and left before he could disobey.

Those six words were still ringing in her head, bouncing around inside her skull and disturbing her thoughts. The swirl and slosh of them made her dizzy, the repetition made her nauseous.

_You don't have to do this._

She resolved, as she listened to the centrifuge whirr and whine, that she wasn't going to let him get any more sneaky words in. She was going to have a plan when she got back, and she wasn't going to deviate from it for anything. She wasn't going to give him a chance to put any more words in her head.

There was no room for doubt now, and any space that got made for it was a failure point, maybe enough of one to get somebody killed.

For another hour, she tended to her polymers and ran herself through the questions she needed to ask, the statements she needed to make. She refined them, pared them down, revisited and revised them until they were perfect, and then repeated them to herself under her breath until the sound of her own voice drowned out the echoing doubts in her head.

_You don't have to do this._

All of this assuming Zylus was still alive when she got back, but she wasn't mentally or emotionally prepared to even _begin_ to think about the repercussions of that, so she put it aside and hoped like hell it wouldn't be an issue. She put away her polymers and cleaned up the lab and turned off the lights. She headed back upstairs, juggling her carefully constructed script in her head.

In the main hallway, she hesitated.

Lalna's door was closed. It seemed simultaneously smaller and larger than it should be, a weighty thing distorting the shape of the universe. For a moment, she was taken by the urge to go to it, to open it up and step inside, to stand amidst the fingerprint of Lalna's life and take the time to really, properly grieve for them. She could hold their metal roses, look through their picture collections, turn on all their tacky lights and curl up in the melted mess of their stasis chair, breathe the smell of them before it faded. . . .

 _You don't have to do this,_ she thought, and the words clumped up in her throat to choke her, prickled in her sinuses and dripped cold water into her stomach.

Nano squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She took a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her teeth, clenching her fists.

Soon it would be over, and then she would mourn like she should, like Lalna deserved.

But it was too late to turn back.

* * *

 

When she got back to the factory, two and a half hours after she'd left, Rythian was gone. She peeked in one of the windows and saw Zylus still sitting in his chair, motionless but clearly alive. He was watching the door attentively, and it occurred to her that he must already know she was there.

Steeling herself, Nano ran through her script one last time, making sure she had it word for word. Nothing he said, she told herself, was going to throw her off, no matter how cruel, no matter how cutting. He could poke about in her head all he liked, but she wasn't going to listen to what he pulled out.

Nano entered at a stalk and stood herself a few feet in front of Zylus, folding her arms and looking down at him. He met her eyes calmly. His lip was split, and there were smears of dried blood on his chin. More blood stained the front and shoulders of his shirt—from where it had dripped and where he had wiped it off his face, most likely.

"What happened to _you?"_ she asked, gesturing to him.

He smiled wryly. "Rythian," he answered. "Apparently he'sh shtill upshet about the drugging thing."

"Serves you right," she said.

"What, you think _thish_ ish equivalent to getting roofied? I'd shay not."

"You dragged him off to be _killed,"_ she snapped. "You got off easy."

"You have no idea how true that ish," Zylus said.

 _What the hell is_ _that_ _supposed to mean?_ she thought.

"It meansh," he said quietly, "that if you knew Nileshy half ash well ash I do, you wouldn't be trying to get anywhere _near_ him. You'd be thanking your lucky shtarsh you're shtill in one _pieshe."_

"Oh, is _that_ how it's going to be?" Nano asked, shaken but refusing to show it. "Fine, okay, play your mind-games all you like, it isn't going to help, because I've got business to take care of. First off: you're going to tell me whether or not your _buddies_ know you're here."

"You're sheventy pershent water," Zylus said darkly. "How much of a chanshe do you think you shtand?"

Nano rolled her eyes at him. _"Or_ you could go on posturing. Y'know, I'd really _like_ believe we could do this without me getting _handsy,_ but if you won't answer the questions, then I might have to. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner we get on to the ransoming. And if you're _really_ quick about it, we might even get done before Rythian turns up to murder your big bad boss."

"It'sh not going to bring Lalna back," Zylus stated.

It was like being kneed in the gut, like having the breath knocked out of her. Her hands tightened on her biceps and her stomach knotted up queasily, and she leaned back on her heels, blinking to keep the tears from her eyes.

"What?" she croaked.

"That'sh all you want, ishn't it?" he asked. "You jusht want them back. All thish revenge bullshit, that'sh all Rythian talking. It'sh contagioush, and you've caught it, becaushe it'sh shimpler than hurting. But even _if_ you kill Nileshy, even if you kill _all_ of ush, what then? Lalna'sh shtill dead, and now _you're_ a murderer, too. What would they think of you?"

 _"Shut up,"_ she snarled, her voice cracking, her sinuses prickling. "Shut up, you don't know a fucking _thing_ about them!"

"I know enough," he said gently. "I know they loved you. I know they wanted you to be shafe and happy. You and Rythian both. You can come back from loshing shomeone, Dr. Shoundsh. It'll never be the shame, no, but you can find a new normal. You don't _ever_ come back from murder. There'sh no getting better. Take it from shomeone who'sh sheen it happen."

"I'm not _killing_ _anyone,"_ she said, gritting her teeth.

"Rythian will," said Zylus.

Nano swallowed and looked away. "You don't know that," she said.

"Telepath," he reminded her. "Sho yesh, I do."

"I won't let him," she said. "All four of you are going to YogLabs prison, where you belong."

"And you think that'sh _better?"_ Zylus asked. "Chrisht, I'd rather take a quick electrocution than whatever twishted shit Xephosh hash come up with."

"Xephos isn't involved," she said sharply.

"Xephosh ish _alwaysh_ involved," he said. "Don't tell me you haven't _notished."_

"He's not involved in _this,"_ she said, although the queasy feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

"Bullshit," said Zylus. "He'sh jusht let your leashesh out a little becaushe he'sh got more important thingsh to do. He'll be looking for shomething to replashe Lalna, now that they're ushelessh to him. Hash he shcrapped them for partsh yet?"

"He _loved_ them," she said, tears spilling over onto her cheeks.

"Xephosh hash never loved anyone in hish life," Zylus said.

"You're a fine one to talk."

"There'sh a _differenshe_ between not wanting to shnog anyone and not giving a shit if they live or die," Zylus snarled, unbalancing her with his sudden vehemence. "Xephosh _doeshn't care about you._ He doeshn't care about you, or Lalna, or _anyone._ He'sh here to kill every lasht Powered pershon on earth and he will do _anything_ to get that done. He'sh keeping you around becaushe you're _usheful,_ and for no other reashon."

"Nilesy tell you that?" she asked, lifting her chin and cocking a hip out to the side.

"Figured it out for myshelf," said Zylus. "Lishten, Nileshy'sh fucking crazy, all right?"

She recoiled slightly. "Well . . . yes," she said, befuddled. Hurriedly, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffed. "Wouldn't have expected _you_ to say so."

Zylus shook his head. "It wash a mishtake ever getting involved with him, and to be honesht with you, I like it ten timesh better here, tied to thish fucking chair and beaten, than I ever did shtuck with him. I would've left if I could, but you don't jusht fucking _leave_ shomeone like Nileshy. He would've found me and . . . I don't even want to _think_ about what he would've done to me. Sho I had to shtick with him. But he'sh _out of hish fucking mind,_ and I'll be the firsht one to tell you. I've sheen it, what it looksh like inshide hish head. The nightmaresh _shtill_ haven't shtopped. I'll take YogLabsh prishon over going back to _that_ any day of the week."

Nano regarded him for a moment, then said slowly, "Why should I believe you?"

Zylus made a frustrated noise and shrugged as best he could. "You've sheen the man. It'sh not that fucking far-fetched. The point ishn't that he'sh fucking crazy. The _point_ ish that _deshpite_ him being fucking crazy, I _shtill_ agree with him about Xephosh, becaushe the thingsh he shaysh about Xephosh are _objective truth."_

"They're really not," said Nano, although she sounded unsure, even to herself.

"Think about it for two shecondsh," Zylus said. "You can't tell me you've _ever_ sheen him give a shit about anyone but himshelf. Oh, he'sh an actor, and he'll pretend, but have you ever sheen him _genuinely_ care? Or wash he alwaysh jusht poshturing for shympathy?"

Nano bit her lip, looking away and fidgeting.

"He's . . . not very good with people," she admitted.

"Wrong. He'sh _exshellent_ with people, he jusht _doeshn't care_ about them. He manipulatesh and liesh and twishtsh people'sh armsh behind their backsh and then he givesh them a shmile and a pat on the back and they _thank_ him for it. He'sh been doing it to you, hashn't he? Shinshe you joined the Division. Shticking you with Lalna, trying to forshe a romanshe you wanted no part of, claiming it wash all for the besht for them—he'sh a _liar,_ Dr. Shoundsh, and he'sh been lying to _you._ He never gave a shit about Lalna, or how they felt, or what they wanted, did he? He didn't even give a shit about their _pronounsh,_ Chrisht'sh shake! They were a weapon to him, and _nothing_ elshe. He'sh letting you have your revenge on Nileshy becaushe it _shuitsh_ him. The more Powered bodiesh he getsh to burn, the better! Thish ishn't about Lalna for him, and it never hash been. Thish ish about _genoshide,_ Dr. Shoundsh. He'sh only upshet becaushe shomeone took out hish nuke."

Zylus's words were hitting uncomfortably close to home, making Nano's heart race and her breath come short.

"You don't—you can't know that," she said, her voice shaking.

 _"Think_ about it," he insisted. "How did he treat Lalna? Like a pershon, or like a _thing?_ That little _training exshershishe_ jusht before _Joule'sh,_ whatever he did to them fucked up their head royally, and he didn't give a shit until he got wind of the fact that people were _angry_ about it. He didn't even _try_ to help Lalna, did he, jusht shtarted poking around in their head to _fixsh_ them, and God only knowsh what he wash really doing in there. They _trushted_ him, they _loved_ him, and he _ushed them._ How many people do you think he forshed them to kill, Dr. Shoundsh? What kind of fucking _torture_ did he put them through for the shake of hish own shick agenda?"

She glanced up at him, frightened and sick and hurting, and saw the thick line of blood trickling from his nose.

All her emotions boiled down to a violent, red-hot _rage._

"You've been in my _head,"_ she hissed, clenching her fists. "You liar, you've been _fucking_ about in my _head!"_

Zylus leaned back, his eyes going wide, and gulped. He flickered where he sat, like a bad hologram.

"I didn't shay anything you didn't already—" he began. She stormed over and clapped her hand over his mouth, holding it shut. He jerked and winced, and she had no doubt that her palm was burning the delicate skin of his lips. She did not let go.

"You'd say anything to get loose, you filthy little weasel," she spat, glaring down into his wide and panicked eyes. "But it's not going to work. Talk all you fucking like, and while you're in my head, why don't you have a good, _long_ look at what I'm going to do to you if I catch you in there again."

She shut her eyes, and pictured herself pouring her power into her palm, pictured the sizzle and hiss of burning skin, pictured the way Zylus would scream and thrash and writhe as she melted the flesh from his bones, the way his face would run like candle wax, the way it would drip onto his chest in a black and fizzing slurry.

He screamed against the inside of her hand and shook his head violently, trying to free himself from her grip. She grabbed him by the ear and forced his head back, keeping her hand tight over his mouth. He had gone completely invisible, but she could still feel him shaking, could feel his breath ghosting hot over her knuckles.

"Do you understand, you bastard?" she demanded, her voice low and shaking with rage. He whimpered, and she let him go. There was blood on her palm from his nose, moisture on the back of her hand from his breath. She turned and stalked towards the door, fists clenched to hold in her anger.

"God, they've got you well-trained," Zylus muttered, his voice hoarse. She whirled on him, power flooding into her hands until they dripped acid slime on the floor.

 _"What the fuck did you just say?"_ she snarled, shaking with the effort of not beating his face in.

He was visible again, sitting with his head hanging, blood smeared over his lips, shoulders hunched. Her handprint was red on his face, his mouth blistered. The scab on his split lip had torn open, and that, too, was dribbling blood. He looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes, and he looked disgusted.

"I shaid," he repeated, "they've got you well-trained. Go back to your fucking schienshe, Dr. Shoundsh. There'sh plenty of people at YogLabsh that are much better at torture than you."

"Would you _shut_ the fuck up," she said. Smoke was rising from the floor at her feet as the drips of slime from her clenched fists ate into the concrete.

"Funny you should shay that. Conshidering whoever comesh after you will be telling me to talk."

The sickness had reawoken in Nano's stomach, and it was making it difficult to maintain her rage.

"Stop _saying_ that. No one's coming _after_ me, no one else is here. Except for Rythian, and I don't think he gives one single shit what you've got to say."

"That sho?" Zylus inquired. "You're doing thish all by yourshelf, are you? No help from YogLabsh, no reinforshementsh, jusht you and Rythian againsht the world?"

"Stop talking," she said, her voice shaking, "or I will melt your fucking mouth off."

"You can lie to Rythian all you want," he said, "but you can't lie to _me._ How about I fill him in on the shituation, shinshe you clearly can't do it yourshelf?"

"And how about I break your fucking jaw?" she snarled. "Since you clearly haven't got anything _useful_ to say."

"I can tell you how to get Nileshy," Zylus said.

She narrowed her eyes, clenching her teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, but his gaze was clear and steady. He had a _hunted_ look about him, a cagey, rangy sort of posture that reminded her of nothing so much as a trapped animal.

It was just possible, she thought, fighting to maintain clarity through the tangle of emotions in her gut, that he was telling the truth.

"And why should I believe _anything_ you tell me?" she asked, her voice taut.

He shrugged. "Becaushe if Nileshy'sh dead or in prishon, I don't have to worry about him fucking murdering me? Jusht a thought."

"If he's so dangerous, then why are you selling him out?"

"Are you even _lishtening_ to yourshelf?" Zylus demanded. _"Becaushe I want out._ I've been living in fear for ten fucking monthsh, do you have any idea what that _doesh_ to you? Being kidnapped and tied up and fucking tortured ish a _relief!"_

She stood there and looked at him, looked at the way tears had gathered in his eyes, at the blood on his lips and the trembling fear in his posture. Slowly, she unclenched her fists.

"You're telling the truth," she concluded, awed. "You're really telling the truth."

"Yesh," said Zylus, his voice strained and shuddering. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks. "God, yesh."

Nano turned away, wrapping her arms around her waist, and swallowed. She was feeling sicker than ever, her anger twisted around to augment the feeling.

"And . . . you can help us catch Nilesy?" she asked.

"Anything to get that shick bashtard off the shtreetsh," Zylus answered immediately. "Ranshom away, I'm sure he'll roll right over. Sherve him right for what he did to Rythian. And what he _ushed_ Rythian to do to _you."_

An idea occurred to her, a terrible, awful, brilliant idea, that unsettled her stomach further and made her heart squelch with guilt.

"Have you got his phone number?" she asked.

Zylus grinned a wicked grin.

"Remind me to thank Rythian for bushting my lip," he said.

* * *

 

Before any demands were made, there was still more preparation to be taken care of. Nano spent every last second of it looking over her shoulder, always expecting Rythian to turn up and demand an explanation. Zylus watched her the entire time, saying nothing, his face composed. It was only when everything was in place that she returned to him, fidgeting and sweaty.

"Listen," she said, keeping her voice low. "I—I can't say this out loud, so—so you've got permission to . . . do whatever it is you do. In my head. _Just_ for a bit, you understand?"

"Yesh," he said, matching her tone.

"Okay," she said, and took a deep breath.

 _You know what's going to happen,_ she thought. _And call me crazy, but I would really like to give you the chance to get away. Just a chance, mind you, there's not much else I can do._

"Why?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Would you shut up?" she hissed.

 _Because I know what it's like,_ she went on internally. _Being stuck with a boss you can't run away from. I'm there. Right now. And if someone gave me even half a chance to get out clean, I'd take it in a fucking heartbeat. So I'm giving you that chance. But if you warn them, in fact if you say_ _anything_ _—_ _bet good money they've got some kind of codeword for exactly this sort of thing_ _—then the deal's off. Okay? But I'm giving you a chance, because if I can save even one person from this fucking mess, maybe I won't feel so_ _well-trained._ _Maybe I won't feel like such a fucking monster._

Zylus watched her for a time, even after she finished her internal monologue. She shifted, then lifted her chin and sniffed.

"Time's up, out of my head," she ordered.

"Thank you, Dr. Shoundsh," he said quietly.

"Don't get used to it," she said, and got back to work.

* * *

 

Sixteen seconds after Nano sent the picture of Zylus, bloodied and hunched in his chair, her phone rang. She answered it, but before she got the chance to say a word, Nilesy cut her off.

 _"I want to talk to him,"_ he said, his voice urgent and shaking.

"No," said Nano. She put the phone on speaker. Zylus was watching her, sitting still and quiet.

 _"If you've hurt him, I swear to_ _ God _ _I will—"_

"Spare me," Nano interrupted, rolling her eyes. "See how it feels? To have one of your friends kidnapped and beaten?"

 _"I could tell you things about Rythian that'd make your little_ _teeth_ _curl,"_ Nilesy said, and something about his voice sent chills scurrying up Nano's spine.

"No thanks," she said. "The less you talk, the less I'll be tempted to take out my absolute _hatred_ of you on poor Zylus, here. I was thinking I might roofie him for a start. Let him get a taste of his own sick medicine."

_"Touch one fucking hair on his head—"_

"Too late!" Nano sang. "Just by the way, before you start blustering at me, you should probably know that I'm a bit short of ideas for what to do with my prisoner. Could always use some threats from an outside source. Y'know. To try out."

There was a long silence from the other end of the line.

 _"Let me talk to him,"_ Nilesy said quietly.

"Why?"

_"Because I'm not bargaining unless I know he's alive."_

"And if you _do_ know he's alive?" she prompted.

_"Anything you want."_

Smirking, Nano looked over at Zylus. He was looking at his own knees, jaw clenched. She nudged him in the calf and held the phone by his mouth.

"Say hi," she prompted.

"Nileshy?" he said, and his voice was shaking too, choked.

_"Zylus? Christ, tell me you're all right. Have they hurt you? How long have you been there? Have they been feeding you?"_

"I'm . . . okay, Nileshy," Zylus said. "For a given definition."

_"Christ, Zylus, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I let this happen. I'm going to get you out of there—"_

Nano took the phone off of speaker and held it up to her ear, moving away from Zylus.

"Convinced?" she asked.

 _"What do you want?"_ Nilesy said, his voice low and cold.

"I want Lalna back," she snapped, tears leaping to her eyes. "But I'll settle for putting you away for good."

There was another long, long silence from the other end of the line.

 _"Tell me when and where,"_ Nilesy said, _"and I'm all yours. But not before Zylus is safe."_

"You want him safe, then come and get him," she challenged, and hung up.

Immediately, the phone rang again. She turned it off.

"Um," Zylus said behind her.

"What?" she demanded, rounding on him.

"You . . . you didn't actually tell him . . . where to go," he said sheepishly.

Nano stood there fuming for a moment, then pointed a shaking finger at him.

"Shut. Up," she said.

 


	37. Chapter 36

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

About two hours into Rythian's aimless wandering, it started raining. It was only a light drizzle, but it made his skin prickle and his clothes sizzle with little sparks. Since there were other people out on the streets, he picked out an awning over a closed shop and leaned up against the wall, trying to make himself as small and unremarkable as possible.

Now that his anger had had some time to simmer down, he felt sick and hollow. The conversation with Zylus kept swirling in his head, repeating and repeating, every word and phrase layered with new meaning and new blame every time it came around. No matter how hard he tried to repress it, it would not be contained.

_It was all your fault._

He couldn't unhear the words, couldn't even begin to pretend they weren't true. It was a fact that had been gnawing at his consciousness since the moment the fight in the warehouse had started, and its teeth had only grown sharper and longer as time had gone on.

It could have been Nilesy who'd died. _Should_ have been Nilesy. He wouldn't even have _minded_ dying, unless _that_ had been a lie, too, just like everything else he'd ever said, although Rythian couldn't think of a sensible reason why he would tell it.

_He was trying to_ _ protect _ _you._

Rythian shook himself, hunching his shoulders and tightening his hands on his own biceps. There were coals in his bones, burning him up from the inside out. He had to find something to distract himself, something to pull his mind out of this downward spiral, because he could see where it was headed, and it was a dark place, and he wasn't sure he'd ever make it back out.

It was his fault Lalna was dead. His fault, even if he hadn't killed them himself—and if Nilesy deserved to die for doing the deed, then what did _Rythian_ deserve for causing it?

He found his breath coming short, his heart pounding. Not knowing where else to turn, terrified of the claw-ended thoughts dragging themselves up from the depths of him, he put on his gloves and pulled out his new phone. Nano had gotten it for him yesterday, along with the replacement pair of gloves. His old ones were still at the flat, along with all his other clothes.

After a few false starts, he managed to dial Zoey's number. She picked up on the fourth ring.

_"Hiya, this is Zoey Proasheck, super-duper YogLabs cop, whatcha need?"_

Rythian's throat seized up so tight he couldn't speak, so he just stood there staring down at his phone while tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks, while his insides all knotted up and his bones brittled and decayed.

_"Hello?"_ Zoey said. _"Hi, um, is anybody there? Helloooo?"_

"Zoey," Rythian whispered, the word driven out of him by the terror that she would hang up and leave him alone with his thoughts again.

She gasped, and he could just about hear her putting her hand over her mouth.

Just one hand.

_"Oh my gosh, oh my goodness, Rythian? Rythian, is that—is that you?"_

"Yes," he said. "It's . . . it's me."

_"Hey! Oh gosh, hey, what's—what's cookin', good lookin'?"_

Without warning or preamble, Rythian burst into tears so wracking and violent that they took his legs out from under him, and he sank to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest and just barely remembered to hold the phone aloft enough that he wouldn't fry it.

_"Oh, gosh, oh, Rythian, hey, it's okay,"_ Zoey said. _"It's okay, oh gosh, please don't cry. I'm really sorry, I'm so sorry, Rythian, I wish—where are you? I could—I could come be there, where you are, so I can help. With the crying. Oh gosh. Rythian? Are you—are you okay?"_

"I'm s-sorry," he choked. "Zoey, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's all—all my fault, I should've known, I should've—I should've done something, I—I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry, Zoey—"

_"No, no no no, Rythian! No, it's not your fault, it's—I mean, I don't know what you're even talking about, like, but if it's about the arm thing, then no, that's not even a little bit your fault, like, that's just me being a super cop. Like, hazards of the job, sort of thing, y'know? Not your fault. Really."_

Rythian shook his head and buried his face in his knees.

"I should've known. I—I should've done something, I should—Zoey, I—this is my fault, and I have to fix it, I have to _fix_ it—"

_"Um, no. No, Rythian, it's not, and you don't, because it's_ _ my _ _arm and there's nothing you could do about it anyway, and it's already pretty much getting fixed as much as it can get fixed, and—and—and we're . . . not talking about my arm. Really. Are we."_

He couldn't respond, too choked up with guilt and fear to force any sound out through his throat. On the other end of the line, Zoey was quiet, too; it was only by the soft crackle of interference that he knew she hadn't hung up.

_"I'm supposed to be really angry,"_ she said at last, her voice soft. _"About what happened to my arm. I'm supposed to be really angry and really upset, and I'm supposed to hate Lalna. That's what everybody thinks, anyway. That's what everybody expects. They think I'm glad Lalna's dead and they like, sort of try to use that. To make me feel better. But it doesn't make me feel better, it makes me feel, like, super sad. 'Cause like, Lalna was . . . really sweet. Really sweet and nice and shy, and he really liked you—"_

"They," Rythian interrupted, force of habit overcoming his inability to speak.

_"Um, sorry?"_

"Lalna's—Lalna was a _they,"_ he said, his voice choked.

_"Oh,"_ said Zoey. _"I'm sorry, I—I didn't know, nobody ever told me. Um. Sorry. But—but look, Lalna was super sweet, and they really liked you, and they were just—just good. They were_ _good,_ _right? And I really liked them. And I don't think they really did, y'know, all that horrible stuff. I think, maybe, something was wrong with them, or something. Right? 'Cause that happens, with computers and stuff. Or—or I dunno, maybe there was, like, a reason. For all of it."_

"Seriously?" Rythian said, glaring at the phone.

_"Look, the point—really the_ _ point _ _is, we don't know. We can't know, now, because they're, y'know. Dead. And whatever was wrong is never gonna get fixed, and we're never gonna know why any of it happened, 'cause they're . . . yeah. And it's awful and I hate it and it's not fair, because like—like, I_ _ knew _ _Lalna. I know he—sorry, they—were good, and nice, and sweet. And I miss them. And they're—Rythian, they're dead because somebody thought they had to_ _ fix _ _this. Somebody thought they had to fix something that they didn't break, and that's not fair. It's not right. And it didn't fix anything at all. So—so whatever you think you messed up . . . I don't think you did. And I don't think you have to fix it, either. I don't think you_ _ can _ _fix it, Rythian. So please, please, don't try."_

He was quiet for a long moment, jaw working as he ground his teeth, guts squirming.

"It's my fault," he said softly. "That—that Lalna's . . . dead. It's _my fault,_ Zoey."

_"What?"_ she cried. _"No, no! Rythian, that's not—you can't_ _say_ _that! You got—I mean, really bad stuff happened to you, because of really bad people, there wasn't anything you could've done to make it any different, okay? You survived, and that's the best you could've done and it's amazing and—"_

"Zoey," Rythian cut in, his voice cold. "Stop."

She made a hoarse noise of distress. _"Rythian, what's going_ _on?_ _You're all angry and broody and upset and you're scaring me, and I really don't like it, and I'm scared you're going to do something really stupid or really bad because you're talking all funny and I just don't_ _understand!_ _"_

He took a deep breath and sighed it out again.

"I'm sorry, Zoey," he said. "I know what I did. I know what I have to do. I'll . . . someday I'll explain. I promise. When all of this is over. I'm sorry, Zoey. Thank you."

_"Rythian, please don't talk like that, you're really scaring me—"_

"I'm sorry, Zoey," he said again, and hung up.

He sat staring at the phone for a good while. The sun had gone down, and the night was painted orange by the streetlights. It had stopped raining.

Slowly, achingly, Rythian got to his feet and kept walking.

* * *

 

Around nine that night, Rythian finally made his way back to the storehouse.

He slipped in through the main door and shut it softly behind him. When he looked up, both Nano and Zylus were watching him. She looked sick; he looked _smug._

The coals in Rythian's bones stirred and shifted, exposing red embers to the air and releasing fresh heat.

"What?" he snapped.

"I—I didn't think you were . . . coming back," Nano said, her voice strained.

"Well, I did," Rythian said. "What's going on?"

"We—I. . . . Well, long story short, I suppose, um . . . Nilesy's on his way."

Rythian's jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed. The beating of his heart sped until he could feel it tapping against his ribs. A lone spark crawled up the space between his arm and his side.

"Oh," he said. "Thanks for waiting for me."

"Rythian—" Nano began, and broke off. She folded her arms and looked at her feet.

"What?"

"Don't," she said quietly. "Don't—don't do what you're planning on doing. Don't go through with this. Don't . . . be that. Don't _become_ that. Don't be a murderer, Rythian. It—it isn't what—what Lalna would've wanted."

_"Fuck_ you," he spat, his voice cracking. "Fuck you, and _fuck_ that, you have no _idea_ what they would have wanted—"

"More than _you_ do!" she snapped, glaring at him.

_"They_ were going to kill him!"

"That's not what I meant! They wouldn't have wanted _you_ to be a murderer, Rythian! You don't come _back_ from that, you can't _recover!_ I'm not _asking_ you to let him go free, I'm asking you not to _do_ this to _yourself!"_

Rythian clenched his fists and took a deep breath. A spark scurried down his arm and leapt off his fist, earthing in the floor with a palpable _crack._

"Are you going to stop me?" he said quietly.

She watched him for a long time, her eyes brimming with tears, before she ducked her head and half-turned away.

"How much longer do we have?" she asked Zylus. "Until . . . until he gets here."

Zylus was quiet for a few seconds, looking her over, then turned his eyes to Rythian.

"Kill him," he said.

_"What?"_ Nano cried.

_"What?"_ Rythian whispered, horrified.

Zylus's gaze did not waver.

"When he getsh here," he said, "kill him. You and I both know what he'sh like when no one'sh watching. Who he ish in private. He'sh a _monshter._ Sho kill him, and put the whole world out of hish mishery. I'm sure Lom and Panda would be grateful, too."

"I—but—" Rythian stammered, his head spinning, his stomach sick.

_Gleaming talons resting so close to his head. Knives jittering in clenched fists._

"What?" Zylus said. "You're not jusht going to let him _walk away,_ are you? After everything you've sheen, knowing everything you know about him—you can't jusht _not_ kill him. Sherioushly, what kind of a pershon would _do_ that? What kind of a pershon would jusht let him walk away?"

"I don't—I—"

Zylus smiled at him, eyes narrowed to a wicked gleam.

"I mean," he said. _"Other_ than Lalna."

_"Shut up!"_ Nano snarled at him, snatching a fistful of his shirt and shaking him. "Don't you say another fucking _word,_ you sick little fuck!"

Rythian took a half step back, reeling. His eyes had come unfocused and he wasn't breathing right. Something inside him was cracked, shivering on a shattered foundation and threatening to crumble at the slightest provocation.

Zylus looked up at Nano, completely unfazed.

"About five minutesh," he said calmly. "Sho if you've got any lasht-minute preparationsh to take care of, now would be the time."

He turned his eyes to Rythian, while Nano went pale and shrank inside her skin. Rythian bristled.

"Stop talking," he snapped at Zylus.

Zylus shrugged. Rythian was tempted to slap the smile clean off his face.

Instead, he just crossed the room and stood on Zylus's other side, close enough that Zylus's hair started standing on end from the proximity of his charge. His smile shrank considerably. Nano took her hand off his shoulder, and it went away entirely.

For the next five minutes, none of them spoke a word. Rythian fought to keep his mind under control, hyper-aware of his own train of thought and unwilling to give Zylus anything else to work with.

It occurred to him that Zylus probably didn't speak much Swedish, and so made the effort to think only in his native language. There was no telling if this paid off, but it at least made him feel better.

Finally, without pomp or circumstance or even any warning, the storehouse door opened, and Nilesy strode in, the mask settled on his face, Lomadia and Panda trailing behind him. Nilesy did not so much as slow his steps, even though the other two stopped just inside the door.

Rythian stiffened, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nano do the same. His breath had caught, his blood was boiling, his mind washed out under a swarm of crackling emotions, wordless and sharp. Without thinking, he started forward, stalking towards Nilesy with his palms itching and his body burning, sparks glittering through his hair and trailing his damp, bare feet.

"Lom," Nilesy said calmly, still walking forward, "please get Zylus loose."

Rythian stormed right up to him and grabbed him by the throat, pressing his other hand to his heart. Nilesy put up no resistance, stopped in his tracks with his gaze lowered. Panda let out a sharp, startled cry, and Lomadia grabbed him by the arm, her eyes wide, her face pale.

"Give me _one reason_ why I shouldn't kill you right _fucking_ now," Rythian snarled at Nilesy, sparks skittering down his spine.

Nilesy met his eyes and held them, his heart pounding under Rythian's hand, his breath coming short. Slowly, his mouth curled into a smile.

"The fact you're asking," he said softly, his throat humming under Rythian's palm with the sound of his voice, "makes me think you don't want to do it. The fact you only need one reason makes me think you _really_ don't want to do it."

The smile snapped open into a nervous grin, just for a moment, and fell closed again.

"Bad news," Nilesy went on. "I haven't got a reason for you. By all rights, you should do it. You deserve at least that much."

"Like _hell_ he does!" Panda cried, wrenching free of Lomadia's grasp and taking a quick step forward.

_"Panda!"_ Nilesy snapped, so sharply that it made Rythian twitch, glaring back over his shoulder. Panda stopped in his tracks. Nilesy turned his eyes back to Rythian, holding his gaze steadily.

The eye contact shivered something loose in Rythian's core, the utter serenity with which Nilesy regarded him, the quick and lively beating of his heart against Rythian's palm.

"So I'm afraid you'll have to decide for yourself," Nilesy told him gently. "Do you really, _honestly_ want to kill me? Right here? _Right now?"_

Rythian stared him down for a timeless moment, his hands sweating, his head full of static. Nilesy's body was warm under his hands, his heartbeat strong and steady, his chest rising and falling with his breath—and there was that look in his eyes, that intense and expectant attention, just the way he'd looked at him when Rythian had wrapped his hand around his throat and kissed him breathless. . . .

With a curse, he shoved Nilesy back, turned on his heel and stalked away, his fists balled in frustration, his face contorted with anger and disgust. There was a flicker of movement overhead, and Lomadia dropped out of the air behind Zylus. She knelt at his back and began tugging at the knots that bound him to the chair. Nilesy let out a slow breath and straightened his suit.

"I'm—" he began.

_"Don't talk,"_ Rythian snarled, choking on the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry about Lalna," Nilesy said anyway, his voice gentle. Rythian rounded on him in fury, and there was a gust of wind and a black-and-white blur and suddenly Panda was standing between the two of them, knives shivering in his hands.

"Don't you _dare_ touch him again," he said, his voice cracking.

"Oh, for the love of—" Nilesy muttered. He put a hand on Panda's shoulder and moved him out of the way, glaring at him. "If he's going to kill anyone, for _God's_ sake, let it be me."

Panda blinked at him, stricken. "Niles," he said quietly, but Nilesy had already turned his attention back to Rythian.

"Rythian," he said, "I mean it. I'm _sorry_ about Lalna. I wish there had been a way to destroy the weapon without killing the person." He looked to Nano and his mouth pulled into a regretful smile. "Goes double for you."

"Don't you even _start_ with me," Nano snapped at him.

"Got him," Lomadia said. Rythian glanced over his shoulder and saw Zylus getting up out of the chair, rubbing his neck.

"I think we'll just be going, then," Nilesy said softly. "If you're not going to kill us."

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere," Nano said. There was a tremor in her voice. "Except to prison, where you _belong."_

Nilesy turned to her and grinned. When he spoke, all the gentleness had gone from his voice, and there was something in his tone that Rythian could only describe as _unhinged._

"Yeah?" he asked, laughing. "Going to lock us up all by yourself, are you?"

She smiled tightly.

"No," she said. "Not all by myself. _Now!"_

And with a terrible crash, the building was suddenly _swarmed_ with black-clad YogLabs police.

 


	38. Chapter 37

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano gave the signal, and the two dozen agents around the room all burst from cover at once, bringing their guns to bear. Nano dropped to the floor and folded her hands on the back of her neck, removing herself from the line of fire. She saw Rythian stagger back a step, his eyes wide and full of terror.

"Rythian! Down!" she ordered. There was a loud _pop,_ and he vanished—instantaneously, he reappeared on top of a wooden crate, cowering on his knees with his arms over his head.

Nilesy cursed vehemently and shoved Panda towards the door. Zylus disappeared, and Lomadia leapt into the air, her wings beating in panicked silence. The sight of her made Nano's stomach churn with dread and guilt.

 _"Lom! Go!"_ Nilesy cried, seizing the air with both hands. There was a terrible, ear-splitting screech, and a pipe tore up through the floor, spewing frothing brown water out into the warehouse in a roaring flood.

One of the men on the balcony shot him in the chest. The pink feathered end of the tranquilizer dart was flagrant against the black of his suit. A mass of water slammed into the balcony where the gunman stood, knocking him and his three colleagues into the wall.

Lomadia dove for the door, her eyes wide and round. An agent on the floor aimed at her, but Panda fell upon them, knives flashing, and they toppled in a fountain of blood before they could squeeze off a shot. Another agent grabbed Lomadia by the leg, and she whirled in the air, clutching their forearm in her free talon, piercing their flesh with her claws. The agent screamed, and Lomadia tore their arms to shreds, clawing herself free.

Three more agents had taken aim at her, but they found themselves firing into a tendril of water, which swept them from their perches and sent them clattering to the floor. The next agent who tried to grab Lomadia was dispatched by Panda, who slit their throat from behind.

An agent tackled him and wrestled his arms behind his back, pressing his face to the floor with their knee, cuffing his wrists together. Panda thrashed like a wild thing until a second agent shot him in the shoulder with no less than four tranquilizer darts. He dropped unconscious almost instantly.

That same agent who'd shot him was lifted by a tendril of water and slammed into the wall so hard it cracked their skull like an egg.

Lomadia had made it to the door, but there were four agents blocking it, and though she harried them with her talons, she couldn't get close enough to make an escape. In the corner, another agent was lining up a shot on her, head moving back and forth in time with the frantic beating of her wings.

Suddenly, the agent's gun kicked back and slammed into their face. They toppled, blood pouring from their nose, and Zylus appeared over them, holding the gun in a white-knuckled grip. He fired one dart into the agent's neck, then turned his aim on the four others at the door. He hit one of them, and then the rest were swept aside by the lashing water. Lomadia dropped to the ground, sprinted out the door, and leapt into the sky. Several agents started to run after her, and Zylus shot two of them before the gun was wrestled from his hands by another.

Without warning, all the water in the room flooded to the floor, lifeless and powerless. Nilesy had fallen to his knees, and as Nano watched, he keeled over, unconscious. The dart was still sticking out of his chest, a tacky and ill-fitting corsage.

And then all was quiet, save for the gushing of water as it continued to flood from the burst pipe and the groans of injured agents. It had lasted less than thirty seconds.

Slowly, shaking, Nano got to her feet. Rythian was still huddled on the crate, hands over his head.

"It's over," she told him. "You can get up now."

He shook his head.

"I'll just . . . stay here," he said. "I think. For now. At—at least until the water's . . . yeah."

"Oh," she said. "Right, yeah. Okay. You—you do that."

The back door of the warehouse opened, and Xephos strode in, trailed by a gaggle of people wearing bright yellow hazmat suits. He stopped and surveyed the damage, and Nano crossed to him. Her stomach was churning, her whole back prickling with tense pain.

"Ah, good, you're here," he said, as she approached. "Overall, not a bad plan. We _did_ lose one, but I suppose nothing can be perfect."

Nano looked over the room, the dead bodies and the unconscious ones, the water and blood dripping from the mesh catwalks. Panda was starting to wake up already, shaking his head muzzily and trying to get his limbs underneath him. Zylus was speaking emphatically to the agent that had him pinned against the floor, saying something about Panda and diabetes. The agent with the ruined arms was sitting on the floor, staring at her torn flesh and exposed bones, her face white with shock. Several of the bodies swept aside by the lashing water were not moving. Blood from the two agents Panda had killed was swirling amidst the water, highlighting the currents in red.

 _"One?"_ Nano said thinly.

"Yes, just the one," said Xephos. "Unless there was another that got away that I wasn't aware of."

"People are _dead,_ Xephos," she snapped, glaring at him, bile rising in her throat.

"Yes, well, necessary sacrifices," he said, waving a hand. "What's _important_ is, the people responsible for Lalna's destruction will be brought to task for it. Thanks mainly to you, Nano. I do appreciate it very much, I must say."

"Sir?" one of the suited agents said, stepping up to Xephos's side.

"Ah, yes," said Xephos. "Go ahead and take the illegals. Separately, please."

The man saluted, then called the order out at large. The remaining agents, both those in hazmat and those in black, dispersed around the room and got to work.

Two agents picked up Nilesy's limp form, dragging him between them. Another hoisted Zylus up by the arm and began leading him away. He was still talking, his voice stern and urgent. Two more agents handcuffed Panda's ankles together and then took his arms, keeping him steady as he shuffled between them, head bowed.

No less than four agents descended upon Rythian, wrestling his hands behind his back and securing them with silver manacles. The thick rubber gloves of their hazmat suits clutched at him like alien creatures as they hauled him off of the crate. One of the agents took his respirator.

"Wait, whoah, quit!" Nano said, hurrying towards them.

"Stop her," Xephos said calmly.

Someone grabbed Nano's arm, and she looked over in shock to see yet another agent, also in hazmat gear, their face blurred behind the thick plastic faceplate. While she stared, stunned, another agent took her other arm. She struggled, but they only tightened their hands.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop it, let me go! He's not with them, Rythian's not _with_ them!"

"Perhaps not," Xephos allowed, stepping up beside Nano. "But he _is_ in a great deal of trouble."

Rythian picked up both legs and kicked one of the agents in the chest. His teeth were bared in a feral snarl, and he was thrashing in his captors' grasps. One of the agents still standing grabbed his kicking feet. By coordinated effort, he was wrestled to the ground. Someone hurried up and shot him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart. He kept thrashing, and so they shot him again.

"What are you _doing?"_ Nano demanded, still struggling. "Stop it, tell them to stop!"

"Heavens, no," said Xephos. "They have their orders. They've had them for quite some time, in fact. I was prepared for this particular eventuality, although I admit I expected a bit more of a fight."

Nano watched in horror as Rythian was dragged away by the faceless agents, his struggles growing weaker by the second. His lip was split, his eyes wide and unfocused.

"Where are they taking him?" she asked. "Where are you _taking_ him?"

"To a lifetime in prison," Xephos said. He clasped his hands behind his back, watching dispassionately as Rythian was bundled off.

 _"What?"_ Nano whispered, eyes widening.

"Oh, yes," said Xephos, nodding to himself. "I do appreciate you keeping him round. It would have been quite a chore, tracking him down."

"But he hasn't _done_ anything!"

"Hasn't _done_ anything?" Xephos laughed, incredulous. "He was instrumental in the complete annihilation of a multi-billion dollar investment."

"How? In what—what _universe_ is this _his_ fault? It was Nilesy, Nilesy and his—his _goons_ that killed Lalna, Rythian had nothing to do with it! He tried to _stop_ them!"

"To hear you tell it," Xephos said, rolling up onto his toes and coming back down again, "Lalna was power-cycling once Nilesy had done with him. Oh, the damage was immense, to be sure, but fixable. Rythian shorted out Lalna's entire system. Every last fuse blown, every circuit utterly fried. Do you understand? Nilesy _broke_ Lalna. Rythian _destroyed_ him. And he is, unfortunately, going to pay for it."

"Pay?" Nano croaked. Her sinuses were prickling with tears. She was trembling. The agents' hands were bruising her arms.

"We generally get our electricity at twelve cents per kilowatt-hour," Xephos mused. "He seems to run at about, what, forty-five amps? Eighty thousand volts? At that rate, he can pay us back on electricity bills alone."

Xephos's eyes went diamond hard. "In a hundred and thirty thousand years," he added coldly.

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him, floundering.

"What—what—" she stammered.

"Well," Xephos amended. He turned on his heel and started away. "Sixty-five thousand years. We _have_ got a spare."

"A—what? A _spare?_ A spare _what?"_

"Robot," said Xephos. "L41-NB, although he prefers _Lalnable._ I hadn't intended to keep him, but as Lalna was such an _unmitigated_ failure, it seems I'm left with no choice."

"What—why—"

"Because every experiment requires a control, Dr. Sounds, and Lalnable is it. I wanted to know if being more human would make one a better killer—we are so devilishly good at murdering each other, you know. Results were conclusively disappointing. I believe there were too many variables. A failure, but an educational one. And expensive, ahahah. Ah well. At least we'll be saving on our electricity bills for the next—oh, ten years. I'd give Rythian a good ten years before we wear through him."

"You can't—you can't _do_ this!" Nano cried.

"Possibly not," said Xephos. "He might well die from shock after only a few days. Which, admittedly, would be hilariously ironic, if a bit disappointing."

Nano wrenched her arms, trying to wriggle free of her captors. They only tightened their hands, so she poured her Power out through her skin, down through her feet, trying to drag them up and burn their gloves away.

 _"You can't do this to him!"_ she screamed, lifting up off the ground while the agents fought to hold her down. Acid was flung in droplets from her skin and carved hissing pits into the floor.

"Someone please sedate her," Xephos said.

"Nilesy was right about you!" Nano snarled after him, while more agents came running up, grabbed her ankles and her waist. They, too, were in hazmat gear, impervious to her acid touch.

Xephos paused.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Perhaps I _could_ still reduce Rythian's sentence further. I'm sure we could find some use for a hydrokinesthete. Sewer work, perhaps. And his—what did you call them? _Goons._ Why, split four ways, it's hardly more than sixty-two billion dollars apiece."

Something pricked Nano in the neck, and she screamed, thrashing so hard she pulled something in her back. There were now five agents on her, hauling her down to earth, pinning her there and letting her burn through the floor.

The world started to go fuzzy, her body to go limp. She fought as long as she was able, but within a minute the drug had overpowered her mind and body alike, and she could do nothing but lay still as she was wrapped in plastic and hauled away like so much garbage.

* * *

 

When Nano came to, she was floating. There was a rushing in her ears, warmth against her skin. It smelled of salt. She pried her eyes open and saw a curved glass pane above her. She sat up, and the roaring in her ears cleared. Water sheeted off of her, and she realized she'd been stripped to her skin.

She had also been put inside a glass tank that was half-full of water, sitting on the floor in a painfully white room.

Panic made her sluggish heart leap, and she slammed a hand against the glass. It made a loud _thunk,_ and the water around her shivered. There were shelves in the white room, stocked with jars and bottles and boxes, chemicals and implements. She'd spent enough time in laboratories to recognize one when she saw it.

 _"Hey!"_ she yelled, pounding on the glass again. Her voice doubled back on her inside the chamber, flat and dull. _"Let me out of here!"_

There was no response. She was alone in the room. Nano kept pounding on the glass anyway, at first trying to get attention, and then trying to break it. None of her efforts bore any fruit, apart from bruising her hand.

Frustrated and frightened, she curled up with her knees to her chest and combed the wet, salt-crusted hair from her face. She started shivering, although she wasn't cold. Her stomach knotted up, sickness crawling through all her insides. Tears welled in her eyes and filled her sinuses with prickling, and she sniffled. Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to breathe deeply, to focus on anything other than the utter helplessness threatening to overwhelm her.

She wasn't dead. That was a good place to start. She could think, could move, could speak. She wasn't in a prison cell, and she wasn't on the operating table. Keeping her breathing slow and deliberate, Nano tried to reason her way through the current situation.

She'd been distraught, angry, violent. She'd been using her Powers against YogLabs personnel, and they'd sedated her. Doubtless she'd been drenched in acid slime by the end of it, hence why they'd wrapped her up in plastic before taking her away. It would also explain the briny water in the tank—it would be buffered against her secretions, preventing her from making it too acidic while also ensuring that it didn't burn her by virtue of being too alkaline. The glass, too, could simply be a precaution. No one had any way of telling if she would wake up as dangerous as she'd gone under, and it would be risky to allow her to associate with medical staff.

On the other hand, she was alone, presumably monitored only by cameras. She was in some kind of medical laboratory, nothing like the sort of place you would put someone you were trying to care for. She'd been stripped of her clothes and her dignity—which, although it might have been necessary to prevent chemical burns, made her feel like some kind of animal. At least they hadn't put any tags through her ears.

She wondered where Rythian was, what they'd done with him. She wanted to believe he was just in a padded cell somewhere, insulated for safety, but given her own predicament, it seemed like a flimsy hope. A hundred vague and dreadful torments swam up in her head, colored by Xephos's talk of short years and shock.

And then there was his mention of a _spare._ A second Lalna, a _secret_ Lalna, hidden away deep inside of YogLabs where, presumably, no one knew about them. For some reason, the thought didn't bring her any hope. Whoever or whatever this spare was, they must have been kept tightly under Xephos's thumb for their entire life. They weren't _her_ Lalna, and it was unlikely they ever could be. The massacre at _Joule's_ swam up in her mind, that blank and terrible violence, and she wondered if that had been Xephos's _spare_ in action, if Lalna really had never left the house that awful night, if Xephos had simply erased their innocuous memories when he'd come over and plugged his tablet into their brain. If he'd planned to do so all along, and faked every last moment of apparent distress—concocted the cock-and-bull story of a hacker, plotted to pin the entire thing on Rythian from the very beginning, deliberately made Lalna so angry that they'd been unable to get the full truth out of him about why he'd erased their memories in the first place—or any truth, maybe.

Or maybe that was just Zylus talking, Zylus and his insinuations, Zylus and his dreadful worst-case scenarios plucked straight from the gnarled branches of her own mind. They only sounded more true because they were coming from outside. Zylus might not strictly have been lying to her, but she was sure that his words had been crafted specifically to bring out the worst of her doubts.

Even so, as much as she wanted to believe that he—and Lomadia, and the others—were wrong about the way YogLabs treated their prisoners, she was beginning to find that belief difficult to maintain in the face of actual evidence. She wondered what was happening to _them,_ too—doubtless they were locked up somewhere in the basements of YogLabs, being poked and prodded and tested all to hell, and the agents had probably already caught up with Lomadia and someone was probably already cutting off her wings—

Nano hugged her legs, burying her face in her knees. She shivered harder with every passing minute, and breathing steadily was becoming a herculean task.

She'd made a terrible, terrible mistake.

* * *

 

Over an hour later, someone finally came in to check on her. They were short, bald, their dark skin mottled with liver spots, their huge nose red with corpuscles. Their eyes were black and beady, and when they smiled, their thin lips shrank away to nothing.

"Afternoon," they said, by way of greeting. "I'm Dr. Gozencrantz. I'll be handling your case."

"My _case?"_ Nano said. She kept her knees to her chest, because it made her feel just a little less vulnerable, a little less exposed. "What _case_ would that be?"

"Maybe the one you're in, mhm, mhm," Dr. Gozencrantz said, a nasally little laugh trailing their words.

Nano glared at them, her lip curling.

"Sorry," said Dr. Gozencrantz. They crossed to the far side of the room and snagged a rolling office chair, then brought it over to the glass case and sat down in it. They took a tablet from an inner pocket of their lab coat and settled it on their knee, then retrieved a pair of wire-rim spectacles from their breast pocket and settled them on their nose.

Dr. Gozencrantz spent a minute looking over their tablet, mouth pulled into a thin frown.

"Well?" Nano prompted.

"Hmm," they said. "Well. It says here you were exhibiting rash and violent behavior, and attempted to injure several YogLabs personnel. Is that correct, Dr. Sounds?"

She took a moment to respond, fuming but determined not to give the wrong answer. Xephos hadn't had her thrown directly in prison, he'd sent someone to talk to her like a human being, so clearly he wasn't convinced that she was a liability.

There might yet be a way out, if she could hold together long enough to find it.

"That's . . . correct," she said. "I was—I wasn't myself. It was stupid. Emotions were running high, and all."

"Mhm," said Dr. Gozencrantz. "Well, we're all very glad to hear it, I'm sure. I've heard one of the, hm, victims of the sting operation was a friend of yours?"

 _"Was_ being the important bit," Nano said. Her heart was pounding, her blood singing in her ears. Her stomach churned, empty and sick.

Dr. Gozencrantz looked up at her, lips pursed.

"I _see,"_ they said, and made a note. "Rythian, was it? And why the _was,_ Dr. Sounds?"

"Because he—he killed Lalna," she said. The words tasted foul. "He's . . . where he belongs. Now. In prison."

"What about the others? Any— _associations_ with them?"

Nano's mind kicked into high-gear, whirring along so fast she could hardly complete a thought. If she told them about Lomadia, they might force her to reveal the location of her nest, if they hadn't found it yet. On the other hand, they might already know about her rendezvous with Lomadia, all those weeks ago, and if she lied, she might be throwing away her only chance at freedom. What little middle ground she had was shaky at best, and would crumble the moment it was probed into.

"If by _associations,_ you mean I've—they've tried to kill me," she said, only barely stumbling over her words. Her skin was burning, and she was struggling to keep her breathing under control.

"I don't guess I'll have to ask if these were _positive_ associations, then, mhm, mhm," said Dr. Gozencrantz. "Dr. Sounds, how are you feeling?"

"How—how am I. . . ?" Nano stammered, caught off-balance.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Gozencrantz repeated.

"I'm—I'm sort of cold?"

"Mhm, mhm, not exactly what I meant. Emotionally. Mentally. How are you feeling?"

"I—well," said Nano. For lack of any plausible lie, not knowing what they wanted to hear, she went for the truth. "Scared. Um. Embarrassed. Worried. Guilt—um, guilty."

"Guilty?" Dr. Gozencrantz asked.

"Y-yeah, for—for all that—that business," she said, struggling to find the right lie to tell. Her tongue was trying to wrap around her teeth like it was scared it was going to fly out of her mouth. "With the—attacking YogLabs employees. Yelling at Xeph—at Dr. Xephos. I—wow, I was really . . . um, just—just crazy. Must've been the—the adrenaline. Or—y'know. S-something."

"Hmm. Yes, that'd do it. Dr. Sounds, it's been reported that you waited a—and here I quote—a _strangely long time_ before giving the signal to begin the sting. Until, apparently, the previously captured Powered individual was, in fact, un-captured, mhm, mhm. Would you care to explain your reasoning?"

 _Oh, God, please just make it stop,_ she thought. She was going to be sick. Her limbs were full of tremors.

"I—I thought—well, I thought that—"

But there was nothing there, no plausible excuse, no reasonable lie that she could tell to explain herself. Her mind had gone empty, spinning its wheels on nothing. Dr. Gozencrantz raised their eyebrows at her and she flushed bright red.

"I didn't want to do it, all right?" she blurted, her voice cracking. Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. Her nose started running almost immediately.

"Didn't want to call in the sting?" Dr. Gozencrantz asked.

"Yes," she said. "I—I just—I don't _know,_ it was stupid and—and cowardly and idiotic and fucking—fucking _soft_ but I just—I didn't want to—I felt _sorry_ for him, he was just scared and tired and he hadn't got anywhere else to turn to and I—"

"Which _he_ would this be?"

"This—Zylus, he was—he didn't even want to be a part of all this bullshit, he was just too scared to run—"

"This same Zylus who, my report says, chose to stay and fight despite being, hmm, invisible?"

 _"I didn't know he would!"_ she snapped. "He—I—he _lied_ to me and I—I _believed_ him, like a stupid fucking sap, he got into my fucking head even though I _swore_ I wouldn't let him and I—I was—I just—"

Dr. Gozencrantz was nodding. They tucked their tablet back into their lab coat and took the glasses off their nose.

"You were manipulated, Dr. Sounds," they said. "One would presume by someone who has a good deal of experience, mhm, mhm. I'm certain you're not to be blamed for a bit of, hmm, sentimentality. A lapse in judgement, as it were. Provided you're thinking more clearly now."

"I am," she said, seizing at the words like they were a lifeline. "I definitely, definitely am."

"Good! No lingering feelings of anger or, hmm, ill-will towards YogLabs, or any of its employees?"

"None," she said, and the lie felt so heavy coming off her tongue that it was a wonder it didn't shatter the glass case around her.

"Wonderful." They planted their hands on their knees and got to their feet. "Dr. Sounds, this has been a very, mhm, informative interview. I think it's reasonable to say you should be out of here in an hour or so. Likely on psychiatric leave for some time, considering the traumas you've endured in the recent past. Unsurprising that you would be susceptible to manipulation and prone to outbursts. Mhm, mhm. But I will make a very strong recommendation to the Director and Dr. Xephos that you be allowed to return to your home. No need for you to remain supervised, at this point in time."

The words turned Nano's muscles to jelly, filled up her head with cotton.

"I—th-thank you," she managed, hardly able to believe her ears. "Thank you, thank you so much, I don't—"

"My pleasure, Dr. Sounds." They turned to go, and the spectacles fell from their hand, landing next to the glass case. "Ah! Hmm, clumsy."

They squatted down to pick up the glasses and met her eyes with such intensity that it made her spine prickle. They spoke in a voice so low she could scarcely hear it.

"I know you're lying, Dr. Sounds," they said, "and I'm on your side. I'll get you freedom. And you _burn them to the ground."_

She blinked at them, gaping, stunned. Dr. Gozencrantz straightened up and gave her that tight-lipped smile again.

"There we are. Always dropping the silly things, mhm, mhm. Well, should you need anything, Dr. Sounds. Don't hesitate to contact me or Dr. Ruildenstern."

"I—I won't," she said. "Thank—thank you."

"My pleasure, Dr. Sounds," Dr. Gozencrantz said. They rapped the glass case with their knuckles and left, shutting the door softly behind them.

Nano put her back to the flat end of the tank and shook and cried and tried to find enough air to breathe. Her head was full of words, none of which made sense, all of which swarmed with mistrust and fear.

Either she had a friend on the inside, or she was being used.

Again.

* * *

 

About half an hour later, another short, bald doctor arrived, although this one was markedly younger, and carrying a bundle of clothes.

"Dr. Sounds?" they said.

Nano hugged her knees to her chest. Now that her fear had subsided somewhat, embarrassment was bubbling up to take its place.

"Yes?" she said.

The doctor smiled at her. "My name is Robin Ruildenstern. I believe Dr. Gozencrantz may have mentioned me to you? I'll be taking you home today. It would be best if you hurried."

"Hurried to do _what,_ exactly? I'm a bit stuck at the moment."

"Ah. Quite."

They set down the bundle of clothes and came around to the back of the tank, behind Nano. There was a clicking of latches, and then the glass top of the case folded aside. Nano stayed curled up inside, loath to stand up.

"I'm afraid your clothes were unsalvageable," Dr. Ruildenstern said. "I've brought you a set from the prison sector. We did manage to save most of your personal items—wallet, keys, that sort of thing."

"D'you mind turning around?" Nano asked, looking over her shoulder.

Dr. Ruildenstern bowed their head and turned their back. Nano climbed out of the tank and put on the clothes she'd been brought—a white t-shirt, white briefs, white sweatpants, all embroidered with the YogLabs logo. There was also a pair of shoes, which were _not_ YogLabs prison standard, two sizes too big for her. Her phone, keys, wallet, and passport were all tucked inside the shoes, with only minor acid damage to all of them.

"Why prison clothes?" she asked, tying the shoes as tight as she could. "You can turn back round now."

Dr. Ruildenstern turned back around and crossed swiftly to Nano. They stood looking down at her as she finished tying her shoes, tapping their foot.

"Several reasons," said Dr. Ruildenstern. "Namely that they're easy to get. Please hurry, Dr. Sounds, we haven't much time."

"Much time until _what?"_ she asked, getting to her feet. Dr. Ruildenstern took her arm in an iron grip and bustled her out of the room.

"Until the security cameras come back online," they answered, keeping their voice low. "I've got all the ones between here and the company car park rigged so we won't be seen. We've got about fifteen minutes altogether. Please keep your voice down."

"Why the fuck have you had to hack the damn security cameras?" she hissed, her heart pounding.

"Dr. Xephos thinks you are in prison," Dr. Ruildenstern said through their teeth. "If I were you, I would not want to disavow him of that notion."

Nano turned her eyes straight ahead and fixed them there, her blood running cold. She swallowed. Dr. Ruildenstern's hand was tight on her arm.

"So go home," they went on, "keep your head down, and for God's sake, think of something. Because _we_ are at a _bit_ of a fucking loss."

"Okay," she said, scarcely able to hear herself. "I—I will. Thank you."

"You can repay us by getting rid of Xephos before he slaughters yet another dozen innocent people," Dr. Ruildenstern said.

"I'll do what I can," she promised.

"Let's hope that's enough, Dr. Sounds," said Dr. Ruildenstern.

They took her out to the car park and held open the door of a black company car for her. They handed her the keys and a pair of business cards through the window. Their jaw was tight, their eyes dark and serious.

"If you need help," they said, speaking more normally, "call. Gray and I have our fingers in a good many pies round YogLabs."

"Then why haven't _you_ done anything about Xephos yet?" she asked, keeping her voice low, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder.

They smiled at her, tightly. "Because _we_ don't find ourselves to be replaceable, Dr. Sounds," they said. "Hard facts, but true."

"And _I_ am?" she demanded. "Thanks for that, it's very encouraging."

"We've tried to get rid of Xephos before," they said. "And people have died. We weren't among them, which is why we're able to help _you,_ now."

"That's a cold calculus," she said.

"Yes," said Dr. Ruildinstern. "But we tend to find ourselves on the right side of the equals sign, mhm. We bear you no ill will, Dr. Sounds. We are simply realists."

"And cowards," said Nano.

They gave her that tight smile again and stood up straight, stuffing their hands in the pockets of their lab coat.

"Yes," they said. "That as well. Drive safely, Dr. Sounds." And they turned away and headed off back towards the massive concrete complex of YogLabs.

Nano rolled up the window, started the car, and drove away. She did not once look back.

 


	39. Chapter 38

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"Good morning, Lalnable."

The robot's eyes flickered to life, and he lifted his head.

"Good morning," he said, his voice perhaps unnaturally deep.

Xephos pulled up a chair and sat down, lacing his fingers. He looked down at his hands, tapping his thumbs together.

"Lalnable," he said. "I'm . . . afraid there isn't an easy way to say this, so I won't try. Lalna is . . . Lalna is dead. Murdered. By a band of Powered miscreants."

Lalnable sat perfectly still, whirring and clicking. All of a sudden, his eyes turned dark purple and he bowed his head.

"Oh," he said.

"I'm sorry," Xephos said. "I'm sorry that you never got to meet him. We've taken those responsible into custody, but . . . well. It's not enough, is it. These people—if one can call them that—have murdered a truly innocent person. Taken him from you, and left you with nothing but . . . but _training simulations_ to remember him by, when he could have given you so much more than just downloaded tactics and weapons training. It's not fair. We mustn't let them get away with it, Lalnable. We mustn't let these _freaks_ get away with murdering your brother."

Shade by shade, Lalnable's eyes shifted to a fire-engine red. Xephos's heart started pounding in his chest, and he had to fight to keep the smile off his face.

It was just so damnably _easy._

"I hadn't intended to start you on real operations so soon," he went on, watching Lalnable's fingers twitch. "But since your first field test did go so impressively well, and since—well, since Lalna can . . . no longer operate at all, I doubt there are any better options. We will have to have a chat with Mr. Strife, of course. Explain to him why he _won't_ be gaining ownership of you."

"I do not like Mr. Strife," said Lalnable.

Xephos reached out and put a hand on Lalnable's knee. He smiled. "Neither do I, Lalnable. Which is why it's such good news that you won't be staying with him. At all. In fact, I have some rather . . . _extreme_ plans for Mr. Strife. I will need your help, of course. Would you be willing to do that for me, Lalnable? It will certainly require less of you than your operations at _Joule's,_ and I will be there in person to guide you this time."

"Yes," said Lalnable.

 _"Ex_ -cellent," said Xephos. "We'll be going later today. I'll provide you with schematics of the Strife Solutions building. Oh, and Lalnable?"

"Yes?"

"Going forward, if anyone tries to harm you, Division or not . . . kill them."

Lalnable nodded once, decisively.

"Acknowledged," he said.

* * *

 

Parvis was not at the front desk this time, but with Lalnable striding along huge and swift behind him, Xephos felt this was a minor inconvenience at best. He walked right up to the woman at the desk and smiled at her.

"I'm here to see Mr. Strife," he said.

"Uh," she said, eyes darting, "uh, M-Mr. Strife isn't . . . seeing anyone just now."

"He'll see me," said Xephos. "Give me the card, please."

"I can't—"

"Lalnable."

His arm raised so fast it was a blur, and the MALaR in his wrist glowed cherry-red, and there was a piercing whine. The woman's eyes crossed, and all the blood drained from her face.

"R-right, yes, right away, s-sir," she stammered, fumbling in her desk. Sweat was beading on her forehead.

"Thank you," Xephos said pleasantly. He accepted the keycard from her when she held it out to him. "Come along, Lalnable."

His shoes clicked on the floor as he headed off. Lalnable's steps were like the tolling of a bell.

In the elevator, Xephos adjusted his suit, fixed his hair, straightened his tie. It simply didn't _do_ to look anything less than perfect in front of Strife, and today was no exception. He glanced Lalnable over to make sure he, too, was in top condition.

"Lalnable," he said. The robot's head lifted a fraction. "If anyone gets in our way, or so much as _attempts_ to stop us or slow us down, kill them."

"Acknowledged," he said.

"I would prefer it if you could avoid getting blood on my suit, as well. I wouldn't worry too much about yourself, though. I believe Mr. Strife may take us _slightly_ more seriously if one of us is a bit . . . ahahah, gruesome."

Lalnable nodded. The elevator slid to a halt and _dinged._ The doors opened and Xephos stepped out, Lalnable close on his heels.

Immediately, a security guard leapt from her chair, face pulled into a frown.

"Hey, you can't—" she began, starting towards Xephos.

There was a _pop,_ and her head exploded. Blood splattered the walls and ceiling and her body toppled with it still pouring from her neck. A few specks landed on Xephos's suit, darker splotches on the black fabric. He wiped them off with his thumb.

"Perhaps you had better go first," he said to Lalnable. He stood aside, and Lalnable moved past him, off down the hall with a quick and determined stride.

One more guard tried to stop them, and died before she could say two words. Bits of her skull pinged off of Lalnable's impassive titanium face, and her blood spattered his chest and arm.

Xephos had him kill the other two security guards for good measure.

They arrived at the door to Strife's office, and Xephos put a gentle hand on Lalnable's clean arm.

"I'll take the lead from here," he said. "Please don't kill Mr. Strife unless I tell you to."

"Acknowledged," said Lalnable.

Xephos took a deep breath, sighed it out again, and flung the door open. He strode inside and felt Lalnable follow like a tank.

Parvis was sitting on the desk, his legs wrapped around Strife's waist and his hands gripping the other man's hair. Strife was kissing him, digging fingernails into his bare back, and the look of startled horror on his face when Xephos came bursting in was absolutely _exquisite._

Parvis yelped and toppled off the desk, scurried away. Xephos's face split into a grin he simply couldn't contain. Strife stood there staring at him, panting and flushed and disheveled, and wiped the spit off his chin.

"Lalnable," Xephos said, his voice thick with glee. "If at any point you lose sight of either of Mr. Strife's hands, kindly kill his little _pet."_

 _"What?"_ Strife cried.

 _"What?"_ Parvis squeaked.

Lalnable's arm shot up again, flicking blood onto the floor and ceiling, and the whine of the primed laser rifle tickled at Xephos's ears. The color drained from Strife's cheeks, and his shoulders went stiff. Xephos grinned at him.

"Will," he said, his voice like honey on his tongue. "I am shocked and disgusted. Why, ahahah. He's young enough to be your _son."_

Strife's face went absolutely white, his eyes got round and wide. His hands clenched at his sides and he stopped breathing for a moment. Xephos's smile stretched so wide he thought it would tear his face in half.

"What," he said, "no clever retorts? No cute little quips? Go on, Will, I know you've got one. _Go_ on."

"What do you want?" Strife said, his voice grinding out through clenched teeth.

"I'm _so_ glad you asked," Xephos said. He crossed to the desk and dropped himself into the guest chair. His blood was singing in his veins and he couldn't have stopped smiling if his life had depended on it.

He gestured to Strife's chair. "Do sit down, Will, please!"

Strife's eyes flicked to Parvis, still cowering against the wall, his bare chest heaving and hickeys blossoming on his slender neck.

"Ah, yes," said Xephos. "Lalnable, Mr. Strife is going to sit down now. Don't shoot anyone over it."

"Acknowledged," said Lalnable.

"You'd do best to keep your hands on the desk, Will," Xephos said gently. "Where _I_ can see them, too. I'm just feeling very—oof, _preemptive_ today."

Strife was shaking visibly as he lowered himself into his chair. Xephos drank it up like cheap wine.

"Now," he said. "As to your question. I want your company, Will."

Strife blinked at him.

"My. . . ?" he said, hoarse.

"Strife Solutions," Xephos said. "The whole thing. Every stock, every share, every patent and, most importantly, every _penny._ I want it signed over to YogLabs."

Strife's hands clenched on the desk.

"That's gonna take a . . . a helluva lot of paperwork, Elly," he said.

Xephos grinned and took out his tablet. He set a stylus down next to it.

"Not to worry!" he chimed. "I've brought it all with me."

Strife glanced at Parvis again, and then at Lalnable. One of his hands twitched. Serenely, Xephos reached across the desk and laid his hand over Strife's.

"I feel I should apologize, Will," he said.

"You—what?" said Strife, returning his full attention to Xephos.

"Apologize," said Xephos. "I'm afraid I've had to co-opt your robot for my own uses. It's unfortunate, but you see, someone broke mine. If it makes you feel any better, you can pretend I handed him over to you just before you handed over _everything_ to _me._ I just thought it was simpler this way, since he was going to end up mine anyway."

Strife looked him up and down, eyes narrowed.

"You're crazy," he declared.

"Am I, Will?" he asked, digging his fingernails into the back of Strife's hand. "Am I, really? Because I would say that the only _crazy_ person in the room is the one who's antagonizing the man with control of the killer robot. You saw his work at _Joule's,_ didn't you? I'm sure you can infer what he's done to your pitiful security. I should hate to get blood all over your office, Will. I do intend to let you keep it, or at least continue to use it. It would be a shame if you were forced to clean poor Mr. Parvis's blood out of the carpets. And rest assured, I would see you do it yourself. By hand."

Strife stared at him for a long moment, holding his gaze, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. Then he dropped his eyes and swallowed, and with a shaking hand he picked up the stylus.

"Where do I sign?" he asked.

* * *

 

It took two hours to get through all of the paperwork, because Strife insisted on reading every line of it. It was slow going, but Xephos found himself unable to be frustrated. He had so much time, after all, and watching Strife squirm, watching him sweat and fidget and glance at the cowering wreck of Parvis—it was euphoric, it was practically a high.

Eventually, though, the last contract was signed and Strife laid down the stylus. He looked up at Xephos with so much unguarded hatred that it made his heart skip a beat.

"Are we done?" he asked.

Xephos patted the back of his hand, still clenched on the desk, and got to his feet. He picked up his tablet and his stylus and put them back in his bag. He smiled at Strife.

"For now," he said. "I'm sure we will be collaborating a great deal in the future, since you now work for me."

Strife's jaw clenched so hard that Xephos could hear his teeth creaking.

"Lalnable," Xephos said. "Please retrieve Mr. Parvis."

Lalnable dropped his aim and crossed the room, hoisting Parvis up by his skinny arm. Parvis yelped, and Strife shot to his feet.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.

"I am taking out insurance, Will," Xephos said. "So long as you play nice, no harm will come to Mr. Parvis. If you do _not_ play nice . . . ahahah. Well. There are some experiments that don't necessarily _have_ to be run on freaks. Some that, in fact, work much better on real people. Direct injection of mutagens into the bloodstream, for example."

"You've lost your _goddamn_ mind, Llewellyn," Strife spat.

"One more comment about my mental health, William," Xephos said quietly, "and I shall send you the tapes of Mr. Parvis's _lobotomy."_

Strife clenched his teeth again, and Parvis whimpered. Xephos clasped his hands behind his back and turned towards the door.

"Come along, Lalnable," he said. "We've still got a good deal of work to do."

He strode from the room, and Lalnable followed, and Parvis stumbled along in his grasp. Strife's impotent rage sizzled against his back.

"Please," Parvis gasped, as Lalnable half-dragged him down the blood-spattered hallway. "Please, Dr. Xephos, Xephy, I'm not—I haven't—you can't—" He rallied, getting his feet underneath him. "You can't do this to Parvy-Parv, you'll be sorry—"

"Do shut up," said Xephos.

"I mean it! Strifey'll have your—"

"Lalnable, dislocate his shoulder."

Parvis yelped, and then there was a wet and sickly _crack,_ and then Parvis _screamed._

Xephos stepped into the elevator, smiling.

* * *

 

Three days later, the regular Monday morning Division meeting rolled around. Xephos brought Lalnable along to stand against the wall behind his chair, just in case negotiations broke down. His eyes had not shifted from that fire-engine red since the meeting at Strife Solutions. Xephos thought it suited him rather well.

The Director was late, as usual, but the room was uncommonly quiet. Xephos watched them all glance at Lalnable, fiddle with their pens and their coffee cups, look anywhere except at each other. Even Turps had managed to shut himself up. In the silence, Xephos could hear the hum of Lalnable's systems behind him, a strange substitute for heartbeat and breath, but no less lively a sound.

"Um," Martyn said at last, her eyes flicking to the empty chair at the table. "Where's . . . Nano?"

"I'm afraid she will not be joining us today," Xephos said. "It has been a rather . . . difficult week for her. Between the loss of Lalna and the subsequent . . . _dramatics,_ we thought it prudent she have some time off to recover. Rest assured, all is well. As soon as she's recovered, she'll be back to her regular work with the rest of us."

"Oh," said Martyn, fidgeting. "R-right, yeah. Sounds good." She glanced at Lalnable and then quickly looked away.

"Well, hang on, though," Sjin said, his eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. "If your robot's got broken, how is it here?"

"The miracles of science," Xephos said. "And he is not an _it,_ Sjin. I would not call him an _it,_ if I were you. He's quite particular about pronouns."

Unbidden, his hand reached up and touched the pale scar at the front of his throat. Different robot, of course, but it was always possible that something other than training had gotten passed over during the downloads, ancillary code tucked away in a place that wasn't meant for it. . . .

"Right!" Sjin said, too brightly, his eyes darting to Lalnable again. He shifted his chair so his back wasn't to the robot anymore. "Gotcha!"

Xephos could hear the unanswered question still hanging in the air— _how is it here? How is it here?_ He chose not to answer. Better they thought him a miracle-worker, never mind that preparation was nine-tenths of every miracle anyway.

No one else said anything, either, and the quiet that descended over the room was like a cloud of gnats, making everyone except Xephos and Lalnable fidget and itch and clear their throats.

Fortunately, the Director arrived after only a few more minutes, rescuing them from the necessity of further small talk.

He came two steps into the room and stopped dead. His eyes were wide as dinner plates, his mouth hanging open, the last morsel of a jelly donut poised to be popped in. Slowly, he raised a finger and pointed at Lalnable.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked slowly.

Xephos forced a smile. "This is Lalnable, sir," he said. "The one I've been telling you about? For years now?"

The Director shut his mouth with a snap, scowling. He looked at the bite of jelly donut in his hand, and then at Lalnable, and then back at the donut. He stuffed the morsel in his mouth and brushed the powdered sugar off his beard.

"'Kay, so," he said, somewhat muffled, "the fuck is it doin' _here?"_

"Ah-ah, _he,"_ Sjin corrected, just the slightest edge of fear to his voice. The sound of it set Xephos's spine to tingling. "Doesn't like being called an _it,_ hahah."

"Yeah?" said the Director, narrowing his eyes. "What, does he go all murder-bot if you get it wrong?"

"No, no, Honeydew, don't be silly," said Xephos, waving off his concern. "If you would come sit down, I'm sure we'd all like to move this meeting along as swiftly as possible."

"Right," said the Director, still rooted to the spot. "So what _does_ he do if you get it wrong, then?"

"Don't _worry_ about it," Xephos said. "If you could—"

"Yeah, sorry," the Director interrupted, "but I'm gonna go ahead and be a bit fuckin' worried about it."

Xephos clenched his teeth. "Lalnable takes orders _very_ well, sir," he said. "I can assure you, he will not do _anything_ unless I explicitly order him to do it."

"Yeah? Then why's Sjin being all weird about me calling him an _it?_ And why's everybody so fuckin' quiet?"

"I couldn't possibly say," Xephos said.

The Director stood a moment longer, eyes narrowed, mouth pulled into a frown. Then he shrugged, stumped over to his chair, and hopped up into it.

"Right, okay," he said. "So what're we faffing on about today?"

"Well," said Xephos, leaning his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. "Since Lalnable has finally entered field operations, I thought it would be a good start to present some of his accomplishments. I know this . . . _partnership_ with Section L hasn't been terribly productive so far, but I think this weekend's results will prove how beneficial Lalnable will be to the Division."

Sips and Sjin looked at each other. Martyn fidgeted, eyes darting. Turps and Pyrion exchanged a single glance and then fixed their eyes on the table. Honeydew pulled a face.

"Right?" he said, scratching his beard. "Have you got, like, a PowerPoint or some bollocks?"

"Actually, yes!" said Xephos. He retrieved his tablet and quickly linked it to the room's projector system. With a whir, the screen against the wall lowered and the projector started up. As the bulb warmed and the first image faded in, he introduced his presentation.

"As of the unfortunate events of last Saturday," he said, "it was made abundantly clear to me that our current _laissez-faire_ policies are somewhat ineffective. As such, I found it prudent to start Lalnable on true field operations, on a rather more . . . _precise_ program than the one he executed at the Powered bar _Joule's."_

The first image had appeared on screen. It was a mugshot, a woman with rainbow dreadlocks and golden eyes and an expression of stunned fear.

"Over the course of the past two days, Lalnable has found and apprehended no fewer than _eighteen_ illegals and, shall we say, semi-legals—registered Powered individuals conducting illegal activities. You may note that this number is higher than the total number apprehended by the entire Division over the past two months, no offense to Mr. Woods or Mr. Starke." He nodded to Martyn and Sjin.

He swiped his finger across the tablet, moving to the next picture, the next mugshot—a man with a thick mustache and long white tusks, his beady eyes wide, his wrinkled skin sweaty. Xephos went on swiping as he talked, showing mugshot after mugshot—and all of them with that same rabbity expression on their ugly faces.

"We won't, of course, be taking jobs away from our dear Division colleagues—it's likely that many of the other illegals and semi-legals will be going to ground in the near future, and Lalnable is not quite adept at the sort of legwork necessary to ferret them out. However, a show of force was necessary in order to send the proper message to these miscreants; namely, that resistance will not be tolerated."

He had reached the end of the mugshots and swiped on to the next picture. Martyn clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a cry. Sjin grabbed Sips's arm and Sips leaned back in his chair with a dusty creak. Pyrion looked on, expressionless. Turps had lowered his gaze and was staring intently at his own hands, clenched on one another atop the table.

"What the _fuck?"_ the Director whispered.

On the screen was a body, headless, blood drenching the ground around it. Lalnable stood next to it, giving the camera a thumbs-up.

"Unfortunately, this message was not always taken to heart," Xephos said. He swiped. Another headless body, and another, and another. . . . "Rest assured, lethal force was only authorized in cases where the Powered individual was demonstrably violent."

And another, and another, and another.

"The vast majority of these escalations were, in fact, illegals, and therefore YogLabs remains in perfectly good legal standing—lest you fear more paperwork on your desk, Pyrion, ahah, although I'm afraid, Turps, I cannot promise that it's good PR."

And another, and another. . . .

"So, overall, it's clear to see that the L41 project has been, despite setbacks, a resounding success."

And the presentation ended with a slide that read, _Questions, Comments, Thoughts, or Problems?_

Xephos set down his tablet and folded his hands, smiling around at the room. Martyn had gone pale as paper, Sjin was sweating and shaking, Sips had shut his eyes. Pyrion was twirling his pen and Turps was still just staring at his own hands, unmoving. Behind Xephos, the hum of Lalnable's living systems filled the room with white noise.

Honeydew opened and closed his mouth a few times. His face shaded up from sickly pale to furious red, clashing with his beard.

"This is—this is fucking _murder,"_ he said, his voice cracking.

"No," Xephos said, "it's crowd control."

"Look fuckin' here," the Director said, jabbing a finger at Xephos. "I didn't sign on for no goddamn murders."

"Then perhaps it's time you signed off, sir," Xephos said easily.

There was dead silence in the room for five whole seconds, so heavy and complete that it smothered Lalnable's soft hum. Pyrion cleared his throat.

 _"What?"_ the Director said quietly.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Honeydew, I do so despise it," Xephos said.

"That's it," the Director snapped. "Get out. You're fired. I oughtta have you arrested!"

"Sorry," Xephos said, his heart racing, "but I'm afraid you can't actually do that."

"Like hell I can't!" the Director cried. "I'll put my boot so far up your arse—"

"Actually," Pyrion said, eyes fixed on his twirling pen, "you _can't_ fire him. Sir."

"I can't? Why the fuck not?"

"He's not a Division employee," said Pyrion. His eyes flicked to Lalnable, standing impassive against the wall.

 _And he's got the robot,_ Xephos filled in for him. _Don't be an idiot, Honeydew._

"Yeah, you'd have to get the whole friggin' Board to vote on it," Sips added in a drawl. Sjin shot him a panicked glance, but said nothing.

"Oh, I would, would I?" the Director demanded. "Fine! Let's have a fuckin' Board meeting, shall we? To talk about how you've been fucking _murdering_ people on company time?"

"By all means," Xephos said, spreading his hands. "Let's gather six extremely busy people together to decide whether or not the entire mission statement of our establishment is, first of all, exclusively my fault; and second of all, suddenly highly immoral. You are being truly unreasonable about this, Honeydew. Honestly. Have you not been paying attention?"

"Oh, I've been payin' fuckin' attention," the Director spat. "It's only just _now_ that I've realized you're a fuckin' _psychopath,_ is all!"

"Ahah, yes, let's blame all our problems on the mentally ill," Xephos said. His hands had clenched white-knuckled on the table, and the hum of Lalnable's systems was making his teeth shiver. "I can assure you that I am quite sane, Honeydew. It is no fault of mine if you find yourself suddenly in too deep because you lack the mental fortitude to pay so much as a moment's attention to the organization you supposedly help to run."

"Right, yeah, 'cause you suddenly setting your fucking _murder-bot_ loose on the city is _exactly_ the same as protecting the helpless from criminals and monsters."

Everyone at the table shied away from the Director, some by degrees and some by inches. The Director continued on, heedless.

"Sure, yeah, makes total sense, how didn't I see that fuckin' coming? 'Cause all those people minding their own fuckin' business were obviously plottin' the downfall of the free fuckin' world, it's bloody obvious now I've taken my fuckin' head out of my arse! _You're a fuckin' psychopath!"_

Xephos stood so quickly that he knocked his chair over. A shockwave rippled out from the action, slamming the rest of them back in their chairs. He could feel Lalnable at his back, huge and unshakeable.

 _"They_ are _not_ _innocent!"_ Xephos roared, gesturing sharply at the screen. "You blither on about your _criminals_ and your _monsters_ and you can't see them when they're sitting right in front of your face! There is _no such thing_ as an _innocent_ freak, do you hear me, you pigheaded little _idiot?_ No one else, not one single fucking person on this _godforsaken_ earth is willing to do what's necessary to keep us _safe,_ and you have the _nerve_ to call _me_ a _psychopath?_ In the face of every last _shred_ of evidence, every last broken home and dead child, you have the fucking _nerve_ to tell me that _I'm_ the monster? Are you even _listening_ to yourself? These _freaks_ are killing us like a cancer, and you expect me to have mercy on the tumors? I am doing what's _necessary,_ I am doing what is _right,_ and I will _not_ be called into question and bossed about and _threatened_ by a soft little _moron_ of a man who would still be scrubbing fucking _toilets_ if it weren't for me!"

The silence clapped down again, ringing like a struck bell. Xephos stood with his hands on the table, white-faced and shaking, looming over the cowering Director.

Slowly, he straightened up and adjusted his tie. He righted his chair, sat back down and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Whatever had just boiled over had spent itself, and composure was restored.

"Now," he said placidly, "where were we?"

"I think you were just talking about genocide," Martyn said, getting to her feet, her voice strangled and shaking. "In a room full of your so-called _freaks."_

"I believe I said nothing concerning the character of the people in this room," Xephos said. "One would hardly self-identify as a freak. Unless one _wished_ to be lumped in with the violent masses."

Martyn's gaze flicked to Lalnable and she hesitated just a moment before she pointed a trembling finger at Xephos.

"You can't do this," she said. She turned to the room, appealing. "Have you all just heard the same load of bollocks _I_ have? He's talking about genocide! He's a madman!"

"Would someone please remove her from the room," Xephos said, rolling his eyes.

Martyn turned white, and then green. Her fists clenched at her sides, the wood of the table started to shift and twist and sprout.

"Remove— _her?"_ she said, choked. "You fucking _bastard,_ you absolute—"

"Lalnable," Xephos said.

Behind him, Lalnable moved. Martyn turned white again, took a step back and half-tripped over her own chair.

"N-no," she said. "No, wait, I—"

Sips stood up and cracked his knuckles with a sound like splitting rock.

"Okay, buddy," he said. "Come on. Removin' ya from the room, or whatever."

"W-wait, Sips, wait—" she stammered, eyes wide and darting between him and Lalnable.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Sips, pushing his chair in.

"If you would be so kind as to put her in a cell until she can regain her composure," Xephos recommended.

Martyn's jaw clenched, her eyes flicked quick and bright, taking in the door, the windows, Sips, Lalnable. She made a leap for the window, hurling herself at it as though to crash through. Sips caught her midair and pinned her arms behind her back without apparent effort. Martyn kicked him in the shin and then yelped in pain.

"You can't do this," the Director whispered. "You can't—you can't fuckin' do this. That's my employee!"

"With all due respect, sir," Xephos said calmly, watching as Sips dragged Martyn from the room kicking and screaming, listening to the gentle hum of Lalnable behind him, "who is going to stop me?"

 


	40. Chapter 39

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano sat at her kitchen table, staring at her phone with layers upon layers of tears on her face. In the four days since the sting, everything had gone to hell. She'd done a thorough sweep of the house for cameras and microphones, everywhere except Lalna's room, which she wouldn't be using anyway—it still hurt too much to think about, and she wasn't ready to so much as open the door, not when so much else was so wrong. She'd bought a new phone and destroyed the old one, disabled the electronic lock on the door so it wouldn't register being accessed. She'd been staying indoors, watching the news and trying to think of some kind of a plan.

The news had stalled her out. It was the calm and utterly unconcerned way they reported the arrests, the deaths, as though there was nothing extraordinary or out of place about them, as though this was just business as usual. It was the way the other robot looked just like Lalna, their eyes permanently fixed to red, although they moved all wrong. It was seeing Xephos on the screen, lying pleasantly through his perfect teeth, and seeing Hulmes, YogLabs' general PR manager, lying right along with him with a smile on his amiable face. It was the way they called it _necessary,_ routine, for the _greater good._ It was the way no one ever asked what had happened to those they'd taken into custody, what would happen when the prisons filled up, what was happening to the ones who showed so much as a moment's hesitation to come quietly.

It made her almost too sick to get out of bed, and the fact that she was somehow supposed to _stop_ this, supposed to somehow _fix_ all the thousand things that Xephos had put so wrong—it was overwhelming, and it left her unable to do much at all but sit and cry.

There was no way she would stand a sliver of a chance against someone like Lalnable. She remembered all too vividly the massacre at _Joule's._ She'd be dead in less than a second if she tried to fight them.

At least, if she tried to fight them _alone._

So here she was, staring at her phone, working herself up to call Fiona, to beg for her help, and Zoey's, if it could be given. There was no one else she trusted—at least who wouldn't kill her on sight. She'd briefly considered hunting up Lomadia, but after everything Nano had done, she decided she'd save that for if she ever felt suicidal.

The problem was, she knew the kind of trouble she'd be getting Fiona and Zoey into, how it would not only ruin their careers, but their lives—might, in fact, get them both killed—and she wasn't sure she could do that to them.

"Their decision," she said to herself, for the thousandth time. "Not yours. _Not_ your decision to make."

With shaking hands, she picked up her phone and called Fiona. While it rang, she wiped her face on her sleeve, obliterating the strata of salt that had crusted there. With a faint _click,_ the answering machine picked up.

 _"You have reached the voicemail of—_ _**Fiona Saberial.** _ _At the tone, please leave a message. For more options, press_ _**pound."** _

Nano hung up. If everything went further to hell, she didn't want obvious records of herself contacting innocent people when she was supposed to be in prison. It took her another five minutes to work up the gumption to call Zoey, who'd given Nano her number during her visit to the hospital. This time, it picked up on the third ring.

 _"Hiya, it's Zoey,"_ Zoey said. She sounded incredibly tired, worn down.

"It's me," said Nano, choking on a sudden lump in her throat.

 _"Nano?"_ Zoey said. _"Oh, gosh, oh, hi. How—how're you doing?"_

"I'm . . . fine," said Nano, the word sticking to the back of her lips. "Just—just wanted to see how you were—holding up. Y'know. With everything."

 _"Oh. Right, right, yeah, well. Good. Ish. Good-ish. It's been a_ _bit_ _rough, lately, since Fi's been having to work so much. Things've got sort of . . . busy. Um. Since Martyn's gone. Resigned!"_ she amended hastily. _"Since Martyn_ _resigned_ _."_

"Martyn _resigned?"_ Nano asked, incredulous.

 _"Yeah, that's what Xephos said,"_ said Zoey, and there was a brittleness in her voice.

"Oh," said Nano. She swallowed and wrapped an arm around her middle. "I—I see. Um, Zoey, listen, if Fiona's super busy, how about I . . . how about I come over. To like, help with cooking, and cleaning, and company? We can have tea, and—y'know, maybe I can stay for dinner, or something."

_"That—yeah! That'd be . . . wow, really great, Nano, that'd be wonderful. Let's do that."_

"Okay," said Nano. "Text me the address, okay? New number, just use the one I'm calling from."

There was a beat of silence from the other end.

 _"Gotcha,"_ said Zoey. _"Um. See you soon? Nano? Probably?"_

"Definitely," said Nano. "See you soon, Zoey."

* * *

 

The flat was a wreck, and not in the way she had expected. Bright colors were strewn about the walls and furniture and floors, but so were empty cans and dirty clothes and crumpled papers. The sink was full of dishes. The rubbish bins were overflowing.

Zoey was reclining on a bright yellow futon, surrounded by a detritus of tissues. A plastic prosthetic lay on the table in front of her, and she was rubbing lotion onto her arm, sniffling. She looked up when Nano came in, eyes bloodshot.

"Hiya," she said.

"Oh God, Zoey," said Nano, staring around at the mess. "What the hell's been happening?"

"Fi's been busy," said Zoey. "And I've been—not good. Super lazy, or just useless, or something. It's not like I don't _want_ to help, I just—I dunno. I'm awful."

"No, what? _Awful?"_ Nano said. "No, no, Zoey, you're not _awful._ I mean—what with everything, I've been doing pretty much the same, honestly."

Zoey sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry," she said. "That sounds horrible, and you being all alone and everything, that's terrible."

Nano picked her way across the room and sat down on the couch next to Zoey, who moved her legs out of the way.

"Zoey, listen," she said. "This is all, _all_ horrible, and terrible, and awful. It's all . . . it's all gone to hell, and it's honestly—really, honestly, absolutely—my fault."

"No, Nano, that's not—"

Nano held up a hand. "Zoey. I need to explain this. Okay? I need to tell _somebody_ all of this before I go completely fucking mad from it. Can you please, please just listen? Just until I'm done? And _then_ you can tell me if it's not actually my fault?"

Sniffling again, Zoey wiped her nose on her wrist, then nodded. "Okay," she said. "I'll listen. And I'll try to not say anything. I dunno if I'll be any good at it, but I think maybe I can listen and be quiet. Maybe. Without messing it up or something."

"It's . . . okay if you do," said Nano. "Just so that's out there. It's okay if you can't be totally a hundred percent perfect on this."

"Okay," said Zoey, although she didn't sound sure.

Nano took a deep breath and sighed it out again. She folded her hands together and pressed her thumbs to the bridge of her nose.

"It all started when Lalna died," she began, "and Rythian started lying to me. . . ."

* * *

 

Over the next hour, Nano described everything that had happened in the past week—Rythian's caginess and anger, the kidnapping of Zylus, the sting operation, Xephos's confession of the spare robot and his twisted plans for Rythian, her own escape from YogLabs. A couple of times, Zoey clapped her hand over her mouth, or made distressed little noises in the back of her throat, but she never interrupted. When Nano had finished talking, the two of them sat in silence for a moment. Nano cleared her throat and wiped her eyes.

"So," she said, hesitant. _"Is_ it all my fault, Zoey? Because it sure as hell feels like it."

"Nope," said Zoey. "Xephos's fault. Like, okay, maybe the whole, um, Rythian situation was—maybe, yeah, but he was also sort of—I mean it was his idea in the first place, so—not like, _entirely_ your fault. Completely. Maybe like, eighty percent your fault. But—but only the Rythian situation. Everything else—totally Xephos's fault."

Nano sighed and bowed her head, scrubbing at her face.

"Yeah," she said. "That's . . . fair."

Another moment of silence passed between them.

"What are we going to _do,_ Zoey?" Nano asked, her voice hoarse and thin. "We can't just _leave_ Rythian down there, I mean, no matter what actually happened with him and Nilesy and the others, we can't just _leave_ him there. God only knows what they're doing to him, and I really _don't_ want to imagine."

"Y-yeah, no," said Zoey. "No, I think imagining is a really, really bad idea. 'Cause, um, I just did. And it's like, super bad. So—so don't, like, do that. Okay? Don't do that."

Nano squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply.

"Right," she said. "And these . . . Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern people, they're expecting me to do something about Xephos, and honestly, I'd really, really _like_ to do something about Xephos, but fuck me if I know _what."_

"Oh," said Zoey. "Yeah. 'Cause the—other robot. Thingy. Y-yeah, that's kind of bad news bears."

"That's an understatement," said Nano. She turned to Zoey, appealing. "Zoey, I need your help. And Fiona's, too, if she can give it. If there's anything at all you can do, and I mean _anything,_ I swear I'll owe you one. A huge one. Like, ten. But—and this is the really important part—if there _isn't_ anything you can do, or anything you feel safe doing, _that's okay too._ Right? I just want . . . I just want you to know that. No pressure. Because this could get all of us killed. Or . . . worse."

Zoey looked at her for a moment, then dropped her gaze. She picked at the futon, holding her truncated arm close against her chest.

"I think they've put Martyn in prison," she said quietly. "Fi and me both do. 'Cause like, he just _vanished._ All his stuff's still at his desk. He went to the Monday meeting and never came back. Never called, never sent an email, didn't even leave a note. Just . . . gone. And—and after hearing about you, and you being locked up, it's like . . . I dunno. It's bad. It's really really bad."

"You think maybe they locked him up because he objected to what Xephos is doing?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe . . . maybe something else, I dunno. But something really bad is going on and Martyn never deserved any of it and I'm . . . I'm _angry._ I'm really, really _flipping_ angry and I want to _do_ something about it instead of just sitting here crying and being useless and awful, like I have been for, like, weeks. And I'm not gonna be like that anymore, 'cause now it's Martyn and it's Rythian and it's _you,_ and people are dying, and that's not okay, and I'm not gonna take it."

"So you'll help?" said Nano, her heart leaping.

"Mm," said Zoey, nodding decisively. "And I'm sure Fi will want to help, too. Not sure what I'll actually be able to do, but . . . whatever I can."

"Thank you," Nano said, effusive. "Zoey, honestly, thank you so much."

She shrugged, blushing. "Not . . . _totally_ doing it for you," she mumbled.

"Doesn't matter," said Nano. "The more of us there are, the better. Doesn't matter why we're in it, so long as we're in it together."

The words came out of her mouth, and she took a moment to consider them as they echoed back in her ears.

"I guess the big thing is the . . . other robot," said Zoey. "And honestly, I don't think I'll be able to do anything about that. At all. Um. 'Cause . . . yeah. Only got the one arm left, and I sort of want to keep it."

"That's fine," said Nano. Her own voice sounded distant, as though she were deep inside her own head. "I think I know some people who might be able to help."

"You do?" said Zoey, brightening.

"Yeah," Nano said slowly. "Only problem is, they're in prison."

"Oh. Well that's fine," said Zoey. "We were going to break Rythian out anyways, we can just get the other people while we're down there, right? And maybe those Gozen-whatsy and Ruildy-burn people can help."

Nano blinked, coming out of her reverie.

"That," she said, "is a _fantastic_ idea."

* * *

 

It took Nano another full day to get hold of Dr. Ruildenstern, and when she did, they had no time to set up a meeting until the weekend. She filled Zoey and Fiona in on the situation, and then settled in to wait. After the first day, she had to unplug the television to keep herself from watching the news. She spent her time working on a robotic prosthetic for Zoey—while it wouldn't be terribly responsive, it would at least have a grappling hook.

She also spent a fair amount of time looking into YogLabs security and poring over the L41 manual, searching for weak points. The YogLabs building had none that she could discern, but the robot—she had to constantly remind herself that they _weren't_ Lalna—had at least one. It was at the base of the head, where the hard reboot switch was located. It was under the titanium shell, of course, but due to the requirements of neck flexibility, there was a thin gap in the plating through which the switch could be reached, provided the reaching implement was either very thin or a liquid.

Something like acid slime, for example, could do some serious damage.

In general, though, the L41 units had a distributed intelligence—their brains were not in their heads but rather spread throughout their entire bodies. Only the A and B models had not used this system, and they had been able to do little more than move their own limbs. Destroying the hard reboot switch was not a guaranteed kill, therefore, and even removing the head entirely was not necessarily a mortal blow.

Lalna, for example, had had a good third of their brain removed along with their limbs. Granted, most of it had probably been motor function, but just removing the spare's head would be destroying barely a sixth of their brain, and there was absolutely no guarantee that it was a particularly _vital_ sixth. The manual didn't say what processes were located where, possibly because that was determined on a model-to-model basis.

The best bet, Nano decided, was electrocution, which meant that rescuing Rythian remained number one on the priority list.

It bumped up rescuing Nilesy to number two, much as the idea made her cringe. She still wasn't entirely certain what he had done to Rythian, but she was damn sure she wasn't going to let him do it again. Prison was where he belonged, and it rubbed her entirely the wrong way to be so much as considering removing him from his proper environment, no matter how useful he might be.

Still, it might earn her some favor with Lomadia, so she consoled herself with that.

Saturday morning, she took the company car to the prearranged meeting place, a small and grungy vegetarian restaurant on the west side of town. She drove around for almost half an hour before finding a parking spot, and by the time she hurried inside, doctors Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern were already seated and sipping on cups of tea. They waved her over, smiling thinly.

"Good morning, Dr. Sounds," said Gozencrantz, as she slipped into the booth across from them. "Held up in traffic, hmm?"

"Yes," said Nano. "Sorry I'm late. Listen, are you _sure_ this is the best place to be having this meeting?"

The two doctors looked at each other. Ruildenstern raised their eyebrows.

"Any reason why not?" they asked.

"Can't think of one," said Gozencrantz.

"Public space, and all, Gray," said Ruildenstern with a wink.

"Ah yes, Robin, so many eavesdroppers in a place like this, mhm, mhm."

Nano frowned at the two of them. "You're having a laugh," she said.

"Laugh?" said Ruildenstern.

"Never," said Gozencrantz. Both took a simultaneous sip of their tea. The ceramic _chinked_ as they set down their cups.

"The fact of the matter is, Dr. Sounds, Gray and I have been meeting in this very restaurant for close on eight years now," said Ruildenstern, leaning their elbows on the table.

"We have never once observed a negative response to this activity," said Gozencrantz.

"Except that one time, when was it, a year ago? Two?"

"Ah yes, with the dish boy."

"Whole bus tray, was it?"

"Took him half an hour to sweep up all the glass. Poor thing."

"I do believe we made an impression."

"Certainly on the dish population, mhm, mhm."

 _"Can_ we," Nano interrupted, "get on with it?"

"I thought you weren't, hmm, comfortable with our choice of venue," said Ruildenstern.

"Don't tease the poor woman, Robin," said Gozencrantz. They turned to Nano. "Yes, Dr. Sounds, we can _get on with it."_

"You sounded as though you had a plan," said Ruildenstern. "We'd be delighted to hear it."

Nano looked between the two of them, glanced around the restaurant, and leaned in.

"You know all those people I got thrown in prison?"

"Yes," said Gozencrantz.

"Quite," said Ruildenstern.

"I want to break them back out again."

For the second time, the two looked at each other and took a simultaneous sip of tea.

"That will be fairly difficult, mhm, to say the least," said Gozencrantz.

"I thought you had fingers in pies," said Nano.

"Fairly difficult," said Ruildenstern. "Not impossible."

"Fairly deadly, _in potentia,_ mhm, mhm. And then we'll have to start all over again."

Just then, a waiter strolled up and gave Nano a lazy and entirely false smile.

"Oy, so, you want anythin'?" he asked, taking a pen from behind his ear. "Only it'll be a while, we've got a backup in the dish pit. Our regular kid stopped showin' and the new guy's shit."

Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern sipped their tea again. Ruildenstern was smirking.

"Just a tea, thanks. Earl Grey, if you've got it."

"We don't," said the waiter, scribbling in his notepad. "But I can get you an English Breakfast."

"Fine, whatever."

"Get it to you as soon as we've got any clean fuckin' teacups," said the waiter, and hurried off again.

"Shame," said Ruildenstern.

"Never quite know whose lives you're disrupting, do you," said Gozencrantz.

"What the _fuck_ are you two on about?" Nano demanded.

"Oh, nothing, mhm, mhm," said Gozencrantz.

"About your prison break?" said Ruildenstern.

Nano ground her teeth for a moment, then shrugged off the conversation. "Right. I've got two people who're willing to help."

"Hmm, more people is more trouble," said Gozencrantz.

"Unless they're making a distraction."

"Oh, quite. But what sort of a distraction?"

"Do we _need_ a distraction?" Nano asked.

"Could," said Ruildenstern.

"Best practice, mhm."

"Fine, so I've got two people who're willing to be a distraction. Probably. What can you do about getting me in?"

"These, hmm, new allies of yours," said Gozencrantz. "The ones you're planning on liberating. How certain are you that they are, in fact, allies?"

Nano opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Well," she said. "Well, um."

"Perhaps best to check that first, hmm?" Ruildenstern asked, raising an eyebrow at Gozencrantz.

"Oh quite, quite. Reconnaissance is ever so much easier than liberation."

"Less dramatic."

"Rather."

"Won't it be a _bit_ suspicious if I'm, you know, walking about in the prison _I'm supposed to be imprisoned in?"_ Nano said. The two doctors were raising her hackles.

"Only according to Xephos," said Gozencrantz.

"Yes, nearly everyone else thinks you're home on psychiatric leave."

"Mostly thanks to Xephos, mhm, mhm. Delightful liar, isn't he?"

"Exquisite."

"He's told everyone I'm at home?"

"Nearly," said Gozencrantz.

"Everyone who would care, at any rate," said Ruildenstern.

"Much like Mr. Woods' unexpected, hmm, _resignation."_

"N-A's miraculous recovery."

"Wait, _what?"_ said Nano, her stomach turning a backflip. Gozencrantz took a sip of tea, and Ruildenstern fixed her with a pitying gaze.

"False," they said softly. "He appears to enjoy maintaining the illusion of a single robot. Perhaps it appeals to his ego, hmm."

Nano swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried to pretend there weren't any tears in her eyes.

"Look," she said. "Can you get me into the prison sector or not? Just to talk to the people I'm . . . liberating. Make sure they're not going to stab me in the back. And— _and,_ can you get me back _out_ again?"

Ruildenstern and Gozencrantz glanced at each other.

"Yes," said Gozencrantz. "With a bit of preparation."

"Monday morning?" said Ruildenstern.

"Afternoon," said Gozencrantz. "Morning is when we'll get her the cells of her new allies."

"Hmm, of course. Take the weekend to prepare the camera systems?"

"No sound, two-minute footage loop."

"Two minutes, Gray?"

"Have to give her enough time to see all of them, Robin."

"Yes, but what about sector-by-sector compromise, hmm?"

"A fair point, but overly complicated."

"Less noticeable."

"We'll discuss it." Gozencrantz turned back to Nano. "Monday morning, we'll send you the plan. The cells of your new, mhm, friends. Along with a time frame to visit them."

"We have your contact information already," said Ruildenstern. "No need to worry about that."

Nano looked at the two of them for a moment, waiting for them to say more.

"That's _it?"_ she asked.

They glanced at each other.

"Yes?" said Ruildenstern. "Simple reconnaissance requires very little from you."

"When it comes to actual breakage, mhm, should it happen, things will be different," said Gozencrantz. "But do tell your two friends we appreciate their forthcoming support."

She stared at them for a moment longer, then pointed at them both.

"If you two get me killed," she said, "I'm going to haunt the _shit_ out of you."

 


	41. Chapter 40

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Monday morning, as promised, Nano received a short email from Dr. Gozencrantz. It read:

 

_N: A-624. Z: B-100. P: C-403._

_Four p.m. to five-fifteen. The duty officer should not ask for identification, but if they do, give it freely, and we will purge the records afterwards. Please delete this email and then remove it from your Trash folder._

_Mr. Martyn Woods has been sent off-site for psychiatric treatment. We have not been able to locate Mr. Rythian Doe._

 

_Gray Gozencrantz, PhD_

_Senior Laboratory Supervisor_

_YogLabs Section L_

_Ext. 20814_

 

Nano followed the instructions to the letter, though her stomach churned and her hands sweated. Arriving at YogLabs, it took her five minutes just to work up the courage to get out of the car. Once she did, though, she kept her head high and her gait purposeful, trying her damnedest to look like she belonged there.

No one took any notice of her, so she supposed she was doing it right.

The prison sector was one of the distal buildings of the YogLabs complex, and almost entirely underground. There was a single floor on the surface level, squat concrete surrounded by barbed-wire fencing that was constantly electrified.

A nasty little part of her wondered if maybe they had Rythian powering it for them.

She managed to get inside the main building without having to show ID, but when it came time for an elevator pass, she was asked for it. As instructed, she gave it freely, as though it was nothing but routine. The duty officer looked it over, punched a few numbers into her computer, and handed it back.

"Will you be needing an escort, Dr. Sounds?" she asked, sounding bored.

"No," said Nano, who hadn't known that this was an option. She had never been to the prison sector before, and had never planned to come here, either. It must, she thought, have been quite difficult to get the cells open when you weren't supposed to—either that, or doctors Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern had their fingers in this particular pie.

The duty officer handed her a keycard.

"Try not to disturb them," she said, "and don't tap on the glass."

"I . . . won't?" said Nano. Something about this was distinctly _off,_ although she couldn't quite place what it was.

"Just turn the card back in when you're done," said the duty officer. She pressed a button on her desk, and with a loud buzz, the steel door to the elevator atrium swung open.

"Thanks," said Nano, stepping through.

Inside the elevator, the buttons were numbered in reverse order, with one at the top and six at the bottom. After a moment's consideration, she pressed the button for six.

The elevator slid down without a sound, utterly smooth in its descent. Nano wasn't quite sure she was moving at all, until it stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out into a white, brightly lit corridor, and the elevator doors slid closed behind her.

The corridor was lined with cells, square and white, the front walls made of reinforced glass. Each had a keypad next to it, and most contained an inmate of some sort. The vast majority of them were curled up or lying down or sitting and staring at nothing.

They all looked undernourished, pale, and dead behind the eyes. Most of them didn't even look up as she passed, and the ones who did were disinterested, dull, almost bovine. She had expected jeering, fists slammed against doors, bars rattled, lewd comments flung like spit.

This was so, so very much worse.

She found Nilesy's cell without much trouble. Like all of the YogLabs cells, it was a small, square room, with white plastic walls and fluorescent lights. The bed was simply an alcove carved out of the back wall, and there was no other furniture or decoration in the room.

Nilesy was sitting on the bed, one shoulder to the wall. He had his arms looped around his legs, his face buried in his knees. They'd done away with his suit and left him in the white t-shirt and sweatpants afforded to every prisoner. He was barefoot.

Nano rapped sharply on the glass. Nilesy did not respond—did not lift his head, did not stiffen, did not so much as twitch.

"Oy," she barked at him. "We need to talk."

He sat still, the slow swell of his breath making his shoulders rise and fall. Nano banged on the glass again.

"Hel- _lo,_ anybody home? I know you can hear me, these cells aren't soundproof."

Still, there was no change, no response. Something pale and dreadful started squirming in Nano's stomach.

"Oh, right, so it's the silent treatment, is it?" she said, folding her arms. "Very mature. D'you want some crayons while you're in there sulking like a five-year-old? Even _you_ probably couldn't kill anyone with a crayon."

He was really, incredibly still. If he hadn't been breathing, she might have thought someone had broken him out already and left a cardboard cutout in his place. The horrible thing in her stomach started squirming a little more vigorously, making her feel ill.

"If you're aiming for pity, you're not getting it," she told him. There was a faint tremor in her voice. "I mean it. Keep this up all you like, but it's not going to help you. Or any of your little friends."

There was no change. It was as though she wasn't even there, as though he was all alone in his cell, utterly lacking outside stimulus.

"They haven't even been giving Panda his medication," she lied, her hands clenching on her biceps. Surely, _that_ would get a rise out of him, would get _some_ kind of reaction.

It didn't. He sat still, not so much as a hitch in his breath.

"I _knew_ you didn't give a shit about them," Nano spat, burying the rising fear in her stomach under a pile of anger. "You cold little bastard, I hope you're fucking _pleased_ with yourself. All _three_ of you are going to die down here, just because you couldn't be bothered to be fucking civil. Well _fucking_ done."

Nilesy did not respond. Nano slammed her fist against the glass as hard as she could, just to watch him flinch—which he didn't.

 _"Freak,"_ she snarled, and stormed back down the hall, her tongue slick with rot, her stomach twisted into a fraying knot. Even the anger couldn't keep her fear suppressed for long, and a terrible thought bubbled to the surface, fizzing against her consciousness.

What had they _done_ to him?

* * *

 

Zylus's cell was in an entirely different block from Nilesy's, and five floors up. Here, the prisoners were a little more lively, but for the most part they still paid her no mind—or when they did, it was to shrink from her in fear.

Zylus was standing at the glass when she got to his cell, waiting for her. His head had been shaved, and there were red circles dimpled into the skin, covering his scalp. The corner of his mouth quirked up when she stopped in front of him. Her handprint still lingered on his face, pink and chafing.

"Enshephalogramsh," he said, looking up at his own eyebrows. "Exshtra pleashant. But better than needlesh, I'll admit. I think they're jusht going eashy on me becaushe I'm cooperating. Turnsh out there ishn't much documentation on telepathsh. I musht be the firsht one dumb enough to get caught."

"Should I bother telling you what I want?" she asked, folding her arms to hide how her hands were shaking. There was blood dribbled on the front of his white shirt, recent enough that it was still red.

"Pleashe do," said Zylus. "But you'd better hurry. They've been having me ushe my party trick at leasht four hoursh a day shinshe I got here. I'm about due for my evening migraine."

She recoiled slightly, frowning. "That's not . . . why would you. . . ?"

"Like I shaid," Zylus said, his mouth pulling into something that was nearly a smile. "They've shpared me the needlesh becaushe I've been cooperating."

Nano swallowed and tried to gather herself. She licked her lips and looked somewhere other than Zylus.

"Xephos has another robot," she said, keeping her voice low. "A . . . second Lalna. Worse. Less human. They've . . . he's had them kill more than a dozen people already. And imprison . . . at least thirty more."

"And?" said Zylus.

 _"And?_ He's murdering people, don't you care?"

"Of courshe I care," said Zylus. "Do _you?"_

"What— _yes_ I fucking care!"

"Really? Becaushe you didn't before."

"I did! I _did!_ I just didn't know, I never _knew,_ and then you—you all— _he_ killed Lalna, and—"

She broke off and turned her head away, because there was a lump in her throat and her sinuses were stinging and the very last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Zylus.

"I think now'sh about the right time to shay: _I fucking told you sho."_

"Shut up," she snapped. "You threw Nilesy under the bus first chance you got, and getting uppity with me isn't helping any—"

"Oh, you want _helpful?"_ he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Shorry, but I sheem to be in prishon."

"Like you couldn't've got away," Nano sneered.

"And let them get Lomadia? Not fucking likely."

"Don't tell me you buy all that wing bullshit."

"You're shaying you _don't?"_

She clenched her jaw, waiting for the anger to simmer down. For once, it wasn't what she needed.

"They've . . . taken Rythian," she said softly.

"And?" Zylus said again.

Nano bristled. _"And_ they've done something to Nilesy," she snapped.

Zylus was silent for so long that she looked up at him. He'd folded one arm around his waist and propped his elbow on his wrist, his hand over his eyes.

"Tell me," he said, his voice choked.

"You can't just have a look and find out?" she asked. She wasn't sure she could find the words to explain, and she especially wasn't sure she wasn't being played two ways at once.

"I don't want to _shee,"_ he croaked.

She chewed her lip, and made her decision.

"He wasn't . . . moving," she said, and then hastened to add, "not like he was dead, or anything, just—I don't know, it was like he couldn't hear me, or—or something. He just wasn't . . . it's like he wasn't even _there."_

"Oh, Chrisht, ish _that_ all?" Zylus said, sagging. "Jeshush, you shcared the _shit_ out of me."

"How is _any_ of that a relief?" she demanded.

"Becaushe all they've _done_ ish taken hish mashk," Zylus said.

Nano blinked at him. "How . . . how does that . . . _at all_ . . . explain _any_ of what I just said?"

Sighing, Zylus cast his eyes skyward. He sat down on the floor, his movements stiff.

"He doeshn't function without it," he said, pressing two fingers to his temple. "Not around shtrangersh. He shutsh down. He'sh all right around ush, but it takesh him a while to get ushed to new people, and it'sh eshpecially bad when he'sh shtresshed. Don't ashk me how it worksh, or why, becaushe I don't know. But if you want anything from him, you'll have to get the mashk firsht."

"Why . . . are you telling me this?" Nano asked, torn between suspicion and something dangerously close to hope.

"Becaushe you want shomething from him," Zylus answered. "There ishn't much he could do in prishon, sho I'm asshuming you're planning on getting him out. And there'sh no way in _hell_ you're getting him out of here without the resht of ush, unlessh you're planning on dragging him out unconscioush."

"I never said _anything_ about getting any of you anywhere," she said.

"Going to be awfully difficult to break Rythian out by yourshelf."

She didn't bother asking how he knew her plans for Rythian. It was probably spilling out of her head six ways at once.

"As if any of you would help me," she said instead.

Zylus regarded her for a long moment.

"I would," he said.

"You— _why?"_

He shrugged. "Becaushe I've got firshthand exshperienshe with how you people treat your prishonersh, even the onesh who cooperate. And shomehow, I don't think he'sh been cooperating."

"Oh," Nano said softly, sick to her stomach.

Zylus pressed his fingers harder into his temple and winced.

"If there'sh anything elshe you wanted, you'd better hurry, becaushe I'm going to be completely ushelessh in about five minutesh."

She considered her words carefully before speaking them.

"If I got you out of here," she said, "and that's a huge _if_ . . . what would you do?"

Zylus sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"At thish point? Get the resht of my friendsh out and then go home and shleep for a week."

"That's _it?"_ she said, dumbfounded.

"If you want fire and brimshtone, I'd shuggesht talking to Panda. Ish there any way you can turn the lightsh off in here?"

"I—don't think so? Look, you're trying to tell me—"

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm getting a killer fucking migraine and I would like to be left alone, _pleashe,"_ Zylus cut her off, his lip curling.

"Oh," she said. "Well. Fine. Thanks for your . . . help, if you can call it that."

"Nano," Zylus said, his voice soft. He was watching her, his gaze steady, if a bit unfocused.

"What?" she said, drawing back from him ever so slightly.

"If anyone can pull thish crazy bullshit off, it'sh you," he said. He was looking quite pale.

Nano blinked at him. "Oh," she said again. "Well. Um. Thank—thank you. Um. Bye."

He didn't respond, so she left without another word.

* * *

 

In yet another cell block, down yet another long white corridor, she found Panda. He was lying on his back on the floor, hands laced behind his head, one leg bouncing with blurring speed.

"Oy," said Nano. "You remember me?"

"I remember you ruining my life," he snapped.

"You're welcome," she said.

"Bitch," he spat.

"Aren't you a bit young for words like that?" she asked sweetly. "What _would_ your mother think?"

"Nothing, since she's dead," he said. "Have you come to gloat? Only I've been told it's _unseemly_ and I think you've got enough problems as-is."

"No, actually, I'm not," said Nano, struggling to keep her temper under control.

"Oh, _super,"_ said Panda. "What the fuck do you want, then?"

She took a deep breath and sighed it out again.

 _"If_ I were to get you out of here," she said. "What would you do?"

He considered for a moment, frowning up at the ceiling, then smiled.

"Break your fucking neck?" he guessed.

"Oh, is _that_ how you're going to be?" she snapped. "Ungrateful little prick."

"Did I mention the bit where you _ruined my life?"_ he snarled, sitting up so fast that she couldn't follow the movement.

"Maybe," she said, gritting her teeth, "I'm in the process of trying to _un-_ ruin it."

"Yeah? How come? Have a change of heart? Wait, no, that's impossible, you haven't got one."

"Oh, _very_ mature."

"I'll very maturely skin you alive."

"How? With your baby teeth? Those'll be falling out soon, by the way, try not to be alarmed."

"Why don't I just use your fucking dentures?" he retorted.

She bared her teeth at him. "Come get them, speedy."

There was a sudden, loud _thunk_ as he impacted the glass, and Nano stumbled back a step with a startled cry. Panda grinned at her.

"Open up," he said, "and I'll get right on that."

She clenched her teeth and, once again, waited for her anger to simmer down. Slowly, she raised her hands, palms-out.

"Look," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this. It was a mistake, and I'm trying to put it right. I just need to know if you're going to stab me in the back the moment I open the door."

"Of course not," said Panda. "I'd stab you in the throat so I could watch you choke on your own blood."

"Fine," Nano snapped. "Rot down here then. You and Nilesy both."

Panda hesitated, some of the fight going out of his posture.

"They . . . got Nilesy?" he asked, his voice smaller, younger.

Nano saw her opportunity and snatched it in both hands.

"Yes," she said. "And they've taken his mask, and he's shut down. Now, I'd _like_ to get him out, so he can break Xephos's _other_ robot—"

"There's _another_ one?" Panda interrupted, his eyes going wide.

"And they're _much_ worse," said Nano, relishing the words. "But if you're going to kill me the moment I try to get you out, maybe I'll just find other people to help me. Maybe if you cooperate, they'll be as nice to you as they're being to Zylus."

"They got—don't tell me they got Lom. _Tell_ me they didn't get Lom," said Panda, pressing a hand to the glass.

Nano took in his stressed expression, his tense posture, his shaking voice, and decided to take pity on him.

"Not as far as I know," she said gently. "Not yet."

Panda sagged, leaning his forehead against the glass with a _thunk._

"Well thank _God_ for that," he said.

She gave him a moment, then said, "So are you still going to stab me in the throat if I let you out?"

He shook his head. "Not right away," he said. "Might wait a bit. I'll probably need a snack first."

"Have they . . . I mean, I heard Zylus mentioning something about . . . diabetes? Have they been—"

"So far," said Panda. "Not as often as they should. I'd rather do it myself, but for _some_ reason, they just don't trust me with needles. Imagine!"

Despite herself, Nano snorted. "I'm . . . sorry," she said. "Look, with the . . . everything. When I get around to getting you three and Rythian out of here, I mean. How—"

Panda looked up sharply. "Rythian?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," said Nano. She rubbed her arm. "They . . . got him too. I don't—I don't know where he is, or what they've done to him—"

"I'm not the person to ask," Panda said, each word clipped, "about _rescuing_ Rythian."

She watched him for a moment, and decided it was a subject best dropped, considering she'd only _just_ gotten him to stop the homicidal talk.

"Okay," she said. "But: Zylus said Nilesy couldn't function without his mask, and in order to get everyone out of here, we'll need him . . . functional. At least."

"So you need a mask," said Panda. "He keeps them under his bed. Lom can get you into the flat, if you can find her." He paused, fidgeting. "But—but other than that, he's all right. Right? I mean he's not . . . hurt? Or anything?"

Nano took a deep breath and let it out again.

"I don't know," she said, her words clipped. "Sorry."

Panda sniffed once and nodded. "Right," he said. "Okay. Right. Well. Lom can get you into the flat. And everything. And then you get us out of here and I . . . won't stab you in the throat. Good? Good, great, okay, you can go away now."

She watched him for a moment longer, hesitating.

"Panda," she said. "When you said . . . Rythian couldn't be trusted—"

"I'm not _talking_ about _Rythian,"_ Panda spat. He turned away from the window and flounced to the bed, throwing himself down upon it.

"O- _kay,"_ she said, frowning. "Should I even bother asking why not, or are you not talking about that, either?"

"You're supposed to be un-ruining my life," he said, and waved a hand at her. "Get on with it."

"Right," she muttered, and sighed.

* * *

 

That night, she mustered her courage, collected her thoughts, and flew to Lomadia's nest. It was a quiet night, and raining thinly, and she was shivering by the time she got there.

Her feet crunched on the gravel and broken glass as she landed, and she winced at the noise. If Lomadia _was_ here, she certainly would have heard it. Nano didn't like calling it the _element of surprise_ in this context, but she did get the feeling she'd fare a little better if Lomadia wasn't expecting her.

When thirty long seconds had passed without any sound or movement from inside, Nano started forward, trying to step as lightly as possible. Her footsteps continued to crunch and crackle, and she winced at every one. She ducked under the heating unit, heart in her throat, and edged up to the little door behind it. There were no lights on, and the door was ajar, so she pushed it open. It squealed on its hinges.

Inside, it was too dark to see anything, between the rain and the lack of interior light. Nano held her breath, listening, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She couldn't make out anything person-shaped in the nest, so she carefully, carefully edged in through the open door.

The moment she stepped inside, there was a flurry of wings, and a body cannoned into her hard enough to knock her back five feet, lay her out flat on her back. Lomadia came down on top of her, snarling in fury, wings beating the air around her and stirring her hair into a lashing mess.

"Wait, _wait—"_ Nano choked, holding up her hands to defend herself. Lomadia slammed one foot down on Nano's chest and clutched her shoulders, pinning her arms.

The other talon closed over her head, dug claws under her jaw and into the back of her neck, and _pulled._

 _"I'm going to break them out!"_ Nano cried, fear pitching her voice so high it squeaked.

"This's _your_ fault!" Lomadia snarled. Her foot was mashing Nano's nose against her head, her claws drawing blood from her neck and shoulders and abdomen.

"I know! And I'm sorry! I fucked up, I have really _really_ _fucked up,_ please don't kill me!"

"Why not? _Why not?_ They're dead, you've killed them, you killed _all_ of them!"

"No I haven't! They're alive, they're all still alive, I _swear_ to you, I talked to them two hours ago!"

"Liar! You've come to get me now, too, so they can cut off my wings!"

"Panda said you could help me find the mask!" she blurted, fear garbling the truth into something more bite-sized, more immediate.

Lomadia paused, the gale from her wings stilling.

"What mask?" she said.

"Nilesy's," Nano said. All her words tumbled out in a rush, spilling against the inside of Lomadia's hard-scaled foot. "So he can _help_ when I'm breaking everyone back out of prison. Which I'm going to do. Because I know it's my fault and I know I fucked up and I'm trying to make it _right._ You've got to know what Xephos's new—"

"You don't care about Nilesy," Lomadia interrupted. "You _hate_ him."

"Yeah! I do!" said Nano, too frightened for anything but the truth. "But you know who I hate _more?_ Xephos, and his robot that he's making _kill dozens of people._ I _have_ to stop him, and I _have_ to save Rythian, and God dammit, if that means breaking Nilesy out of prison, _fine!"_

There was a moment of silence, and then Lomadia stepped back, removing her talons from Nano's face and chest. Nano clambered to her feet, hurriedly checking for broken bones and dangerous punctures. She found none, and looked up at Lomadia.

Her nose was running, and her eyes were wide, pupils huge in the darkness. She was hugging herself, sniffling, her wings folded close against her back.

"What about the others?" she asked. "You're saving them too, right?"

"Of course," said Nano, more gently.

"Because you need them?"

"Sort of," Nano admitted. "Sort of because I feel bad for getting them locked up in the first place. Sort of because . . . I like them. Zylus anyway."

Lomadia nodded. "Everybody likes Zylus," she said. "He makes sure."

Nano took a deep breath. "Lomadia," she said. "I need your help."

"I can't," she said immediately. "They'll catch me. They'll lock me up and cut off my wings."

"Not—not with breaking people out. I've got . . . other people to help with that. But look, if I _am_ going to be breaking people out, I need Nilesy to be functional, which means he needs a mask. Right? Panda said you could let me into the flat."

"No," said Lomadia. "But I can bring you one of his spare faces, if you want."

Nano recoiled slightly. _"Spare faces?"_

"That's what they are. You wouldn't want to walk about without a face on, would you?"

"I'm just . . . going to ignore that," said Nano. "But yes. If you could bring me a mask, that would be fantastic."

Lomadia considered. "You can come with me," she said. "To watch the door. But you can't come in his room, because you hate him."

"That's . . . fine," said Nano. "Can we go now? The sooner this is all over with, the sooner we can get on to the important things. Like keeping Xephos from killing anybody else."

For a moment, Lomadia stood and regarded her, eyes wide, face unreadable.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she said softly.

"It's . . . fine?" said Nano. "I . . . I get it. Honestly. I understand why you did. And I . . . forgive you."

Lomadia nodded, and gave her a very small smile, and then leapt into the air, her wings snapping open in silence. Nano followed, her cheeks warm.

* * *

 

Lomadia alighted on a balcony rail and hauled open the bay window behind it. There was no actual balcony there, just the rail and the window and the slatted plastic blinds. Lomadia slipped inside and Nano followed.

The place smelled mainly of tea, a dozen or more scents all wafting out from the cabinets; and there was the reek of a bin that hadn't been taken out in over a week, and the plastic-flower smell of spray-on fabric cleaner, and the general grimy scent of a place that was well lived-in and not well cleaned. Lomadia made a beeline for one of the adjoining doors, glancing over her shoulder just as she stepped inside.

"Wait out here," she said, keeping her voice so low that Nano could barely hear it. She slipped into the room, but left the door open.

After a moment standing in the living room of the tiny flat, Nano edged over to the open door, curious despite herself. She poked her head inside, making sure to keep her feet firmly at the threshold.

Lomadia was sitting on the floor, sticking one leg under the bed, her tongue between her teeth. Some part of Nano lit up in delight at the sight of her, but something about the room was nagging at her, a sour note on an otherwise happy moment. It came to her slowly, in bits and pieces, but when she figured it out, it made her hair stand on end.

The room was utterly barren. There were no posters or art on the walls, no mess on the floor. The grey bedspread was made to military standard, the tiny desk utterly free of clutter, the nightstand empty. The boxes under the bed were aligned with mechanical precision.

It did not look lived in, apart from the dehumidifier sitting right next to the head of the bed.

Nano clenched her fists and her jaw and moved away, while Lomadia pulled boxes out from under the bed and rifled through them. She went into the cramped kitchen and leaned on one of the counters, fighting to keep her breathing under control. She tried not to think about what it meant, about what might have gone on in that bleak little room, but the thoughts crept up on her anyway, sickly and pale.

"Found it," Lomadia said, stepping out of Nilesy's room and shutting the door behind her. In her hand, she held a white masquerade mask in the semblance of a cat. "We should go. In case somebody comes looking. I don't think anybody has yet, but they might, so we should go."

Nano just nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wondered, as she followed Lomadia back out the bay window, how Nilesy had managed to fool her so thoroughly—to not only escape being torn apart by her talons, but to win her trust, her respect, her _love._

Lomadia led her to a nearby roof, not the one with her nest. The rain had stopped, but the city was still muffled under thick clouds. The rooftop was dimly lit, and quiet, and didn't seem to have any access doors. There, Lomadia handed the mask over. Nano took it as though it would burn her hands. Instead, her fingers brushed Lomadia's, and the contact sent a wash of pleasant heat flowing up her arm and into her chest. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her feet.

"When are you getting them out?" Lomadia asked.

"I'm um. I'm not sure yet," said Nano. She had to fight down a wince at the way her voice squeaked. "Soon. As soon as I can."

Lomadia nodded. "Okay. When you do, you can bring them to my nest. We'll be safe there."

"We'll . . . we'll see," said Nano. For some reason, the idea of taking anybody else to Lomadia's nest seemed abhorrent, and it was with a fair bit of chagrin that Nano realized she was _jealous._

"It'll be good. We'll all stay there and then we'll stop Xephos and everything will be all right."

Nano snorted. "God, don't I wish."

"Nano."

She looked up. Lomadia was watching her, pensive.

"What?" said Nano. She fidgeted, her fingers sweating on the mask.

"Bring them home safe," she said softly. "All of them. Please."

"I—I'll try," said Nano, uncomfortable.

"Promise."

Nano took a deep breath and let it out again. She nodded, swallowing.

"I promise," she said, and the words were heavy enough to make the earth tremble when they fell from her lips.

Lomadia reached up her hands and cupped them around Nano's face. She leaned down, and Nano's heart thundered in her ears and her skin caught fire and all her bones turned to jelly.

Lomadia kissed her, gently, on the lips. She lingered, and the taste of her was like honey and cream, and the smell of her was like dust and rain and old books.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "You come home safe, too."

"O-oh," said Nano, her head spinning. "Yeah, okay. Gotcha. Will do."

Lomadia hesitated, then kissed her again. Nano's knees almost went out from under her, and she took Lomadia's wrists in her hands just to hold herself up. The mask _clacked_ on the ground as she dropped it. She felt the wide wings close around her, muffling the noise of the city, and leaned into the kiss. Ever so lightly, it began to rain again, tiny drops tickling against her scalp.

Slowly, Lomadia pulled away, folding her wings back behind her. She pecked Nano on the lips once, twice, three times, then stepped back, letting her fingers trail against her cheeks.

"Good hunting, Nano," she said, and leapt into the sky.

Nano watched her go, still reeling, the rain prickling down around her. She reached up a trembling hand and touched her lips, breathless.

"Good . . . good hunting," she murmured. "Lom."

 


	42. Chapter 41

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Two days after Nano got the mask from Lomadia, the plan was put into action.

Nano hadn't liked it, although she wasn't sure if that was because it was a bad plan or because Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern kept giving each other knowing looks during the planning of it. Zoey and Fiona had both been there, too, and a couple of scientists from Section L who were fresh out of university.

It went a little something like this:

The two young scientists would create a diversion out in the center of town, generally by setting a building on fire. They didn't say so in as many words, but beneath all the jargon and the stuttering Nano figured that that was what it boiled down to. They would call it in as a Powered threat, and Fiona and Zoey would respond before anyone else could. Hopefully, others in the Division would arrive soon after, and could be sent on a merry goose-chase throughout the city. Lalnable would then be deployed, at Gozencrantz's recommendation, to aid in the search, once it became clear that the Division wasn't having any luck finding the fictional arsonist.

Ruildenstern, meanwhile, would be keeping an eye on the prison sector and adjoining medical facility, ensuring that the cameras remained compromised and the security guards didn't catch on. They had managed to create a keycard that would open the three cells she needed, which she was to melt the moment it had served its purpose. Neither Ruildenstern nor Gozencrantz would be in radio contact with Nano, as, they said, it would be abundantly clear when something had gone wrong, and radios could be traced besides.

So Nano would be entirely on her own down there, just her and the murderers she was breaking out of prison. That, she thought, might have been the part she didn't like.

"Why can't somebody come with me?" she'd asked, looking at Zoey and Fiona.

"Because that would be one more body on the pile," said Ruildenstern. "I'm sure you don't want that. The people inside the prison are the most likely to die, so I'm afraid we've decided to, hmm, minimize the risk."

"Thanks for that," she'd sneered.

They were going to do it on Sunday afternoon, when the YogLabs complex would be mostly empty. It would reduce collateral damage and had the added benefit of having fewer eyes on site to see where the escapees went.

During the six hour planning meeting, Zoey was constantly fiddling with the robotic arm Nano had given her. It wasn't perfect, but she seemed to like it—and it made her smile, which was a small comfort amongst everything else.

They still, _still_ hadn't been able to find Rythian, so she would be on her own for that, too. The best Gozencrantz could figure, he was somewhere in the medical facility, which connected directly to the prison. It would be up to Nano and her new allies to actually find and rescue him.

Sunday morning had come all too soon, dawning gray after a sleepless night. She hugged Fiona and Zoey before they headed off, having spent the night in their flat. She waited there, trembling and muzzy, too keyed up to even consider trying to relax. Every time she heard sirens in the distance, her heart leapt into a pounding frenzy, making her blood shiver and course.

Around one o'clock, Ruildenstern called her.

"The fire's going," they said, "and you should be, too."

"Got it," she said, and hung up.

She almost crashed the company car twice on the way over, so anxious and unfocused was she. After the second time, she pulled over to breathe. While she was stopped, she checked to make absolutely sure the GPS was out of the car. She'd removed it the day before, but her mental state was such that it felt like a necessity to check. Nano put her hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath, sighing it out again.

"Calm down, Nano," she said to herself. "Calm people live. _Calm_ people _live."_

With a few more deep breaths to steady herself, she started off again, driving more carefully than she ever had in her life.

The YogLabs complex was huge and squat, fenced off from the rest of the world. That fence, too, was electrified, and once again the nasty little thought rose up in Nano's head that maybe she could follow the wiring all the way back to Rythian. She swiped Ruildenstern's custom keycard at the gate and drove in slowly, obeying the speed limit for the first time since she'd started working there. The car park was nearly empty, only a few black sedans and SUV's scattered around, a few employee cars nestled up close to the building like suckling piglets. She parked as close to the prison sector as she could and turned the car off. Once again, she found herself staring at her hands.

"So this is it," she muttered. "Today's the day we turn to a life of crime. Knew it'd happen, though, didn't we. Only a matter of time."

She unlocked the door and swung her feet out. They hit the asphalt, and something in her settled. She stood up and took the first step, and then the second, heading for the prison sector with a purposeful stride, her head held high and her eyes flicking left and right, taking in the environment. There was no one about, and the thin clouds overhead cast a uniform illumination over everything.

Now that she was in motion, her inertia overcome, she felt herself gaining inexorable momentum, moving with more determination, more unstoppable force, with every step she took. She was a giant ball of steel, set to rolling on an incline, and the further she went the more formidable she became.

The guard at the gate to the prison sector did not ask for her ID, just stepped aside with a startled look on her face, stammering out some half-baked attempt at a greeting. Nano did not spare her so much as a second glance.

The duty officer did ask for ID, and Nano gave it. She felt like a Valkyrie, descending from the heavens to rain justice upon the battlefield, and none of these trifling details concerned her in the least.

Once more, she made a beeline for Nilesy's cell, ignoring the cattle-like inmates that lined her path. He was lying curled on his side, his back to the glass. The sight of him made Nano's blood boil, the memory of the dehumidifier swimming up in her head.

"Oy," she hissed. "Get up."

Nilesy did not so much as twitch where he lay, still just as unresponsive to the world around him as he'd been the last time. Nano banged on the glass.

"Oy, pool boy. Get _up._ I'm busting you and your buddies out, the least you could do is quit lying around like a fucking load. Or are you _completely_ useless without your little cat face?"

He didn't respond, so she slapped the keycard against the reader, glaring at him, and there was a loud _beep._ The door hissed open, glass sliding up and away. Still, Nilesy remained exactly where he was, not so much as a hitch in his breath. Nano tossed the mask into the cell and it slid across the floor, coming to rest against the base of the little bunk.

"There's your damn mask," Nano said. "Now quit pouting and get _up,_ or I'm going to leave you to rot in here."

Nilesy did not move.

 _"Fine,"_ she spat, and turned on her heel. Stalking down the hall, her heart in her throat, tears in her eyes, Nano fought to keep herself under control, fought to regain that sense of impervious power she had held on the way down here. It had fallen away like sand through her fist, and she was left with only grains. She hurried down the hall, furious with herself, trying to pick up momentum once again.

It wasn't as though she _needed_ Nilesy in particular. What was one broken promise, anyway? Especially when it was such a stupid, impossible promise in the first place. He could stay there forever, if he wanted, useless and mute. This was where he belonged, anyway. It wasn't her fault if he wouldn't move. It wasn't her fault if he was too broken to ever—

"Is Lom all right?"

Nano stopped in her tracks, freezing where she stood, scarcely daring to breathe. The voice behind her had been soft, raw, shaking—but unmistakeable. She turned slowly, all her bones full of electricity.

Nilesy was standing in the hall, mask on, his fists clenched at his sides.

"What?" Nano croaked, hardly able to believe her eyes.

 _"Is Lomadia all right?"_ Nilesy insisted. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"Yeah," Nano said quietly, and nodded. "Yeah, she's . . . she's okay."

"Are you _sure?"_ he pressed, his eyes narrowed behind the mask.

"I am," said Nano. "I—I talked to her a couple days ago. She's the one who let me in the flat. To get your—the mask."

He bowed his head and put a hand over his mouth, letting out a slow sigh. He straightened up, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. Moving carefully, he approached her and, to her surprise, stuck out a hand.

"Truce?" he inquired, a little of the old lilt back in his voice, a little of the old glimmer back in his eyes. "At least until we're out of the building."

She considered him for a long moment—the pallor of his skin, the shallowness of his breath, the way his hand was shaking.

"Truce," she said, but did not take his hand. "For now."

He grinned, curling his fingers into a fist. "Fantastic. Now. _Where the fuck are my friends?"_

* * *

 

They got Panda first, at Nilesy's insistence. Nilesy didn't say much on the way there, and his eyes were darting constantly, his hands picking out little patterns in the air as he walked along behind her. He was tense as a piano wire, looking like he was going to snap at any second.

The moment they reached Panda's cell, he plastered himself to the glass, fogging it with his breath. Panda shot to his feet and stared in open-mouthed shock at the two of them. Nano tapped the keycard against the reader and the glass slid away, nearly pulling Nilesy up with it. Before it was halfway up, Panda zipped forward and impacted on Nilesy hard enough to send him stumbling back across the hallway.

 _"Fucking hell,"_ he hissed, clutching Nilesy around the waist. "Oh, God, oh, God, Niles, you're—you're—"

"I'm fine," Nilesy said, squeezing Panda to him. "And so're you, thank _God_ for that. Christ, I thought you were—I thought they hadn't—"

His voice was shaking, strangled, his hands fisted tightly in Panda's shirt.

"Yeah, yeah, no," said Panda, and sniffled. "Insulin and snacks and everything, it's okay, I'm okay—"

"Oy," Nano interrupted. "Touchy-feelies later."

Panda sniffled again and pried himself off of Nilesy, not without a fair amount of difficulty. He wiped his nose and nodded, then took Nilesy's hand.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we've—we've still got to get Zylus! Yeah, let's go."

Nano looked at the two of them for a moment—the way Nilesy was staring down at Panda as though he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, the way Panda's hand was clenched so tightly on Nilesy's that it had turned his dark skin white. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, then started off down the hall. She heard the two of them follow, and something that might, just might, have been a kiss.

She grit her teeth and swallowed down her revulsion and kept her mind on the task at hand.

They made it to Zylus's cell in good time, with no alarms and no guards. Nano's spine was a solid mass of tension by then, wound up tight from waiting for something to go wrong. Once again, Zylus was standing at the glass waiting for her. Panda zipped past and pulled up short, grinning at Zylus with tears in his eyes.

"Hi," he said.

Zylus smiled at him. "Shup, shpeedy," he said.

Nano tapped the keycard against the reader, and once again, the glass slid away. Zylus stepped out and swept Panda into a hug, squeezing him for just a moment before letting go. Nano felt Nilesy step up at her shoulder and moved away, repulsed by his nearness.

He was regarding Zylus critically, his arms folded.

"You look stupid bald," he said.

"You look like a fucking idiot in that mashk," Zylus returned, mirroring Nilesy's posture.

"Tsk. Keep that up and I'll chuck you right back in your cell."

"Didn't want to be reshcued anywaysh."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then hugged each other so tightly there was an audible _thump_ when their chests came together. Zylus put a hand on the back of Nilesy's head and buried his face in his shoulder, and Nilesy clutched the back of Zylus's shirt like it was a lifeline.

"Shcared the _shit_ out of me," Zylus muttered. "Don't you ever do that again."

"Don't get fucking kidnapped again and I won't have to," Nilesy replied, his voice cracking.

Zylus patted him heartily on the back and then pushed him away. He straightened his shirt and looked to Nano.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Well," she said. "Um. Well. Okay." She was unsteady, shaken by these displays of seemingly genuine emotion—especially from Zylus. "I've got you all out, now you're going to help me get Rythian—"

"Fucking hell, they got _Rythian?"_ Nilesy cried. "What the fuck're we standing round here for? We've got to go get him!"

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him, gobsmacked.

"He—he tried to _kill_ you!" she cried. It was the only thing she was absolutely sure of, since she'd seen it herself.

 _"And?"_ said Nilesy. "He'll have to wait to finish the job 'til after we've rescued him. Any idea where he is?"

"Yeah but—but you can't just—I thought you _hated_ him!"

Nilesy tipped his head to the side. A pang shot through Nano's heart, leaving her unbalanced and aching for reasons she couldn't quite place.

"You're not very observant, are you," Nilesy said.

"Can we _pleashe_ do thish later?" Zylus asked. "When we're _not_ shtill in prishon?"

"Right! Good point," said Nilesy, clapping his hands together. "Thoughts as to where to find Rythian?"

"Don't see why we've got to—" Panda began, sulkily.

 _"Shut the fuck up,"_ Zylus snarled, jabbing a finger at him. "Shave it, for fuck's _shake,_ we don't have fucking _time."_

"Um," said Nano. "I think—I mean, he's not in the cells, or we'd have found him already, so . . . he's most likely in the—the medical facility. Somewhere."

 _If he's still alive,_ she did not say.

"Oh, shit," Zylus hissed. "Fine. Take ush there."

"You don't—" Nilesy began. Zylus grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him close.

 _"Shut. Up,"_ he growled.

Nilesy raised his hands and grinned.

"Lead on," he said.

"But we don't know where he _is,"_ Nano objected. "That place is pretty damn big, and we aren't exactly rich on time."

"Telepath," Zylus reminded her testily.

"Oh," she said, deflating. "Right. So what, I just get you close enough, and—"

"Walk and talk," he interrupted.

"Right," said Nano. She started off towards the elevator again, her skin prickling with the tension. "Okay, so how does this work? Can you just look and see where he is, or what?"

"Jusht ashk shomebody. If they know, I'll shee it ash shoon ash you ashk. How're we getting out of here?"

"Through the elevator?" Panda guessed.

"No," said Nano. "The medical facility connects directly. There's a corridor on the top level of the _A_ block. That's where we're going."

"And you came to get me first anyway?" said Nilesy, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "I'm flattered."

She rounded on him and jabbed a finger under his nose. His eyes crossed, and he raised his hands again.

"Let me be absolutely fucking clear about this," she said, her voice low and shaking with fury. "I hate your slimy guts, and if I had _any_ other option, you'd be rotting in that fucking cell for the rest of your miserable life. But I made a promise to Lomadia to get all of you out of here safe, and because _I'm_ a _good_ person, I'm going to keep it, as much as it makes me fucking sick. But you put one fucking _toe_ out of line and I will not hesitate to beat the absolute living _shit_ out of you, do you understand me?"

He met her eyes, and there was a kind of calculation behind them that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Yes," he said. "I understand."

"Good," she said. "And don't you fucking forget it."

With that, she turned on her heel and started off again, listening to the patter of bare feet hurrying along behind her.

* * *

 

They got to the medical facility without any alarms going off, and without being stopped either. They only had to duck out of sight once, all squashed uncomfortably close in an empty cell (except for Zylus, who had the privilege of being invisible). Now, the four of them were crouched just around the corner at the end of the connecting hallway. Zylus had volunteered to scout ahead.

"Can't you just use your mind trick?" Nano hissed at him, as he vanished from sight.

"Did I mention the daily fucking migrainesh?" Zylus asked, his voice coming from nowhere. "I've got four hoursh at besht and I don't want to shorten that if I can help it."

"If you're—" Nilesy began, half rising. Panda caught him by the arm and yanked him back down. Nano could swear she heard Zylus's eyes rolling.

"Jusht shtay there," he said. "Two minutesh at mosht."

There was the sound of bare feet on linoleum, fading around the corner.

"What do we do if there's a shitload of them?" Panda asked Nilesy, his eyes darting.

Nilesy considered this. "Ever broken a neck before?" he asked.

"Have you got to go _straight_ to murder?" Nano demanded, clenching her fists.

"It's part of my fucking charm," said Nilesy. "Panda, darling, ever broken a neck before?"

"Not that I can remember," he said. "Is it like in the movies?"

"Sort of," said Nilesy.

"Oh, of _course_ you'd know that," Nano muttered to herself. "Christ, I wish I'd left you back there."

"Don't worry," he said lightly. "You can lie to me just as well out here. Unless you don't think it's _wise_ to tell me my friends are dying when there's _not_ a pane of reinforced glass between us, which, ahahah, I'd say is an accurate assessment."

Nano was about to reply when Zylus reappeared next to them, pointing at her.

"Don't," he said. "Two guysh out there, both with tashersh. If Nano goesh alone it shouldn't be a problem. I can go behind her and lishten in. We can knock them both out before they know anything'sh wrong, but I don't know how many are inshide the labsh. There'sh a lot of . . . shtuff. In there."

Zylus shivered and glanced over his shoulder. He ran a hand back over his bald head, swallowing.

"So that's a _no_ on breaking necks, then?" Panda asked.

"Unlessh we fuck it up," said Zylus, "in which cashe, kill the bashtardsh."

Panda nodded. "Gotcha," he said.

"Until then, you two shtay here," said Zylus. "Nano, do that thing where you're a Valkyrie."

She blinked at him, then hurriedly got to her feet.

"R-right," she said. "Right, okay. Gotcha."

"It comesh naturally to you," said Zylus. "Don't worry."

Then he vanished again, and Nano stepped out around the corner, moving with as much purpose as she could muster.

There were, indeed, two guards, sitting in chairs on either side of the door. One was inside a Lexan booth, the other was not. The one not in the booth looked up as Nano approached, his expression bored.

"How can I help you, miss?" he asked, straightening up somewhat.

"Doctor," she said, fighting down the tremor in her voice. "I'm here to work with Rythian."

The guard raised an eyebrow, and she heard the one in the booth typing.

"Who?" he asked.

"Recent addition," she said, trying to sound as much like Xephos as she could without making herself physically ill. "Carries a surface charge of around eighty-thousand volts? Bit hard to miss him."

The guard looked at her for a moment, then down at the tablet on his little desk. "What did you say your name was, miss—sorry, _doctor?"_

"Sounds," she said. "Dr. Nano Sounds." The other guard was typing again. Her hands were sweating, her heart fluttering, but she forged on. "And I _am_ in a bit of a hurry, so if you don't mind—"

There was a sudden, rapid clicking from the booth, and Nano nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked over just in time to see the first guard topple out of his chair, seizing violently, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide. There was a smell of burning flesh. The second guard cursed and leapt to his feet, fumbling his taser out and staggering back. Something struck him in the face, snapping his head back, and he staggered back a couple of steps. He was struck again, and this time he crumpled like a marionette. Zylus reappeared, took the taser from his hand, and shot him in the chest with it. The guard's body jerked and twitched, every muscle taut. Zylus threw the weapon down and it cracked on the floor.

"Fucker," he spat, then turned to Nano. "Room twelve-shixshteen. We'd better hurry, the other one wash halfway through calling you in when I zapped him. _Nileshy! Panda!"_

The two of them hurried around the corner, and Zylus stooped to the guard on the floor, taking the keys from his belt. He handed them to Nano and she went to the door, trying every key before she cursed herself for an idiot and swiped the card instead. Her hands were shaking, her mind overwhelmed with relief.

Rythian was _alive._

With a _click,_ the door unlocked, and she hauled it open.

Inside was a short corridor, lined with doors, which branched off in two directions after about ten meters. There were colored lines on the floor, leading away down the corridors. She recognized the smell of the place, the whiteness, and knew that somewhere in this facility was the tank where they'd kept her, naked and alone, until Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern had broken her out. Hopefully, that meant she'd also be able to find her way back to the car park without too much difficulty.

She looked around to get her bearings. The door to her left read _1001,_ and the one on the right was _1002._

"Great," she sighed, as Zylus came up behind her. "Only two hundred rooms in. Could be worse."

"Then get moving," he said, prodding her in the back, "before it _getsh_ worshe. Theshe fuckersh aren't going to shtay down forever."

She started out, and the other three hurried along behind her. She glanced back at them occasionally, making sure they were still there, or, in Nilesy's case, making sure they weren't putting any toes out of line. Zylus was white-faced and thin-lipped, Panda wide-eyed and jittery. Nilesy's face had turned to stone, that same terrible blankness he'd worn when murdering Lalna, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him or find a rock to hide under for the rest of her life.

As they went, she began to hear screaming—distant at first, and then closer, a long and constant sound broken only by gasping breaths. It was agony, torment, horror, and it made her skin crawl. The closer they came, the further it wriggled under her skin, until by the time she could match a door to the source of the sound, she was itching from it.

She risked a quick glance inside.

There was a man lashed down to a gurney, stripped naked, his lanky limbs blistered with constant struggling. There were tubes plugged in all over him, some full of blood, some full of clear liquid, some full of a viscous black substance that looked almost like tar. The man was screaming, screaming, screaming, his black hair falling into his eyes as he thrashed. Panda took her by the arm and tugged her away before she had looked more than a couple of seconds, but the sight burned in her mind, an afterimage refusing to fade as it should. The screaming rang in her ears all the way down the corridor and beyond, long after she ought to have been unable to hear it.

They reached room twelve-sixteen and Zylus swiped the other guard's keycard—he must have lifted it from their unconscious body while Nano fumbled with the keys. He hauled the door open, and Nano hurried in, the others close behind her.

She stopped dead two steps in, because she'd seen what was inside. Nilesy made it just past her before he, too, saw the contents of the room.

"Oh, Jesus _Christ,"_ he murmured, putting a hand over his mouth. Panda darted in and stopped in his tracks, then turned away. Zylus stopped behind Nilesy and put a hand on his shoulder, his jaw clenched and his cheeks pale.

Rythian was lying on a gurney, stripped to his skin, lashed down with canvas restraints and silver chains. A pair of thick wires had been inserted into his abdomen, one above and one below his diaphragm. They led off to a massive machine that was spinning and whirring. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored. There was no sign of his respirator.

Nilesy started forward, and Nano snapped at him, _"You_ stay where you are."

He stopped, stricken, staring at her with a look of pain on his face, clear even beneath the mask. Zylus murmured something into his ear and then moved away.

Nano hurried to Rythian's side and stopped, wary of touching him. The skin around the wires was red and swollen, but at least it was mostly clean. He looked terribly thin, and she could see the pulse fluttering in his throat.

"Rythian?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Nano," Zylus called. She turned, tears in her eyes, and he tossed a pair of rubber gloves to her. There was a rack of them against the wall. She pulled the gloves on hurriedly and took Rythian's face in her hands. His eyelids fluttered, and one of his hands twitched.

"Hey," she said to him. "It's me. It's Nano. I'm going to get you out of here. It's . . . it's going to hurt, but I promise you'll be okay."

"How deep do you think they're in there?" Zylus asked, coming to stand on Rythian's other side.

"We're _not_ pulling them out," she snapped at him.

"Really? You'd like to leave him with bitsh of metal in hish abdomen?"

Her jaw tightened, and she looked down at the wires, protruding grotesquely from Rythian's body.

"You do it," she said to Zylus.

 _"Oh, God,"_ he muttered, staring down at Rythian.

"Right, we haven't got time for this," Panda said. He zipped to the rack of gloves, and then to the table. The drawers under the rack rattled in his wake, one of them drifting all the way open. The gloves were already on by the time he got to Rythian's side.

"Panda—" Zylus began, warning. Panda shoved him out of the way.

He grabbed one of the wires and yanked. There was an awful _sucking_ noise, and it tore out of Rythian's abdomen, ripping out a long line of flesh from where it had been curved inside him. The machine sputtered and died.

Rythian screamed, struggling weakly against his restraints.

"Oh, shit," said Panda, staring at the gore-dripping wire in his hand.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Nano said hurriedly, petting Rythian's cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know it hurts, I know, hang on just a little longer, it's going to be okay—"

"Hell with it," said Panda, and went for the second wire. Rythian cried out again, twitching and thrashing before Panda had even started to pull.

Zylus put his hands on Rythian's hips and held him down. Panda drew the second wire out, rather more carefully this time, his teeth bared in a wince as the wire pulled against the flesh.

"Got it!" he cried, tugging the last inch out of Rythian's belly with a triumphant flourish.

Suddenly, an alarm screamed out from everywhere, deafeningly loud.

"Oh good, it'sh the party alarm," Zylus said. "Now we're having a party. Nano, get me shomething to bandage him up with. Panda, get him looshe."

"Here," Nano said. She shrugged out of her coat and threw it to him, and he set about wrapping it around Rythian's middle, tying it off tightly. Panda was making short work of the canvas straps, sawing through them with a scalpel he'd picked up from somewhere. Nano melted through the silver restraints. While she was thinking about it, she went ahead and melted the keycard Ruildenstern had given her, too.

Once they had Rythian bandaged and free, Nano put her gloves back on and tried to haul him off the table. He whimpered at every movement, and the sound sent needles of guilt digging under her skin.

"I've got him," Zylus said, coming to her side. "I'm not good for much elshe anyway."

He sank down and slid his arms under Rythian's frame, then lifted him off the gurney in a bridal carry. Rythian yelped and clutched at the fabric of his shirt with trembling fingers.

"All right, you three take him back to our place," Nilesy instructed, still standing where they'd left him. "I'll catch up with you."

"The _hell_ you will!" Panda cried. "I'm not _leaving_ you here!"

"Yes, you damn well are," Nilesy said. "Now get out of here, before security shows up."

"You don't give me orders," said Nano. "Why the hell would you stay, anyway?"

"Because Xephos is somewhere in this building," he said darkly. "And _one_ of us isn't leaving alive."

"Nileshy, shut the fuck up," Zylus snapped. "We're leaving. _All_ of ush. Before shomeone fucking _diesh."_

"Zylus—"

Panda darted over and grabbed Nilesy's face in both hands.

"I'm not leaving you," he said.

Nilesy stood there seething, breathing deep and heavy, his fists clenched at his sides, while the alarms wailed overhead and Rythian whimpered in Zylus's arms.

"Fucking hell," Nilesy said, and took Panda's hand before he started for the door. "Zylus, let me know if you need me to carry him for a bit."

"Thanksh," said Zylus, falling in behind the other two. He glanced back at Nano and shrugged.

Nano hurried after them, her skin crawling, her stomach churning with dreadful apprehension.

There was no way this was going to be easy.

 


	43. Chapter 42

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The alarm blared in Panda's ears, and the others walked so slow it made him want to scream. Everyone always moved too slowly for his liking, but now, when the pressure was on and the threat of being thrown back in prison was looming so close, it was _agonizing._

"I've been here before," Nano said, as they strolled out of Rythian's room and back into the hallway. "Not this part, specifically, but nearby. I think I can get us back to the car park, and I've got a car waiting. No GPS."

"And how far away is this car?" Nilesy asked. His hand in Panda's was clammy, shaking, and there was an edge to his voice.

Nano's eyes darted. "At least fifteen minutes," she said. "Less if we hurry, though."

"I like hurrying," Panda put in. "Can we hurry? Please?"

"Hurry where?" Zylus said. "She doeshn't know where we are."

"I don't know _exactly_ where we are," Nano corrected. "I'll figure it out." She took a long moment to look down at the floor, then pointed. "There was a red line where I was. We follow that until I recognize something."

"Oh, brilliant," said Nilesy. "That can't possibly go wrong."

Nano had already started off, and Zylus was following, so Panda tugged on Nilesy until he lurched into motion, trailing along like a trolly with a bad wheel. He kept trying to look in the windows of the rooms they passed, veering off left or right until Panda hauled him back on course again.

"Stop doing that," he hissed, as Nano led them down a corridor and around a corner.

"Doing what, darling?" Nilesy asked, in a far-away voice.

"Be here, now," said Panda. "At least until we're home."

"Don't know what you're talking about," said Nilesy, drifting off course again. Panda yanked on his hand.

"I _will_ pick you up and carry you," he threatened.

"Or you could go on ahead," said Nilesy. "I'll catch up."

"No," said Panda. "I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

Nilesy hesitated. "What, ever?" he said, his voice back in a more normal register.

"Ever," Panda said firmly. The party rounded another corner. Nano was, ever so slightly, picking up her pace.

"That might get a bit uncomfortable for the both of us," said Nilesy.

"I know where we are," Nano called back.

"Oh, good, so only fifteen minutes until—"

 _"Shh!"_ Zylus said suddenly, freezing in place.

"What?" said Nano.

"Everybody get down!" Zylus hissed, crouching on the floor. Rythian whimpered in his arms, and Zylus shushed him, too.

Nano dropped into a crouch next to Zylus, her shoulders tense, her hands clenching and unclenching on the air.

"What?" said Panda. He crouched down against the wall opposite Zylus, tugging Nilesy down with him. There was a branch in the corridor about ten feet ahead of them, a T-intersection with another corridor.

"Guardsh up ahead," said Zylus, nodding his head at the intersection. "Waiting for ush. They're going to rip ush to shredsh if we come around that corner."

"How many?" Panda asked. His heart started pounding, making his blood sing in his veins. _This_ was more like it. No skulking about, no whispering, just a lot of people with guns standing between him and where he wanted to be.

"Eight, at leasht," said Zylus. He clutched Rythian a little closer to him. "I can get me and Rythian through, _maybe,_ if I take it shlow, but no one elshe."

"Eight?" said Nilesy. He giggled suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth, releasing it a moment later. "Oh, well, that's nothing. It's been very nice knowing you all, by the way."

"Shut the fuck up," Nano hissed at him, "and fucking _do_ something."

Another little giggle bubbled over Nilesy's lips and he winced. "Ahahah! I can't," he said, his eyes darting.

"What d'you _mean,_ you _can't?"_

"Is this really the time to be criticizing me for things completely beyond my control?" he returned urgently.

"Niles," Panda said, tapping him on the arm.

"What?"

Panda grinned at him, and whipped out the pair of scalpels he'd taken from Rythian's room.

"I've _got_ this," he said. He kissed Nilesy on the cheek and, before he could so much as blink, dashed around the corner.

It was at times like this that Panda felt truly _real._ The world dropped into slow-motion around him, every detail sharp, every color bright. His body was a thing of precision, of power, and everything else was flimsy in the wake of it. The first shot fired as he rounded the corner, but it was aimed so slowly and so carefully that Panda was nowhere near the bullet when it whizzed past him like a fly. Another three guns went off, _bang, bang, bang_ in succession, and he corrected his course to pass between the bullets and the people firing them, after they'd left their cozy homes inside the guns. He brought the first scalpel in a neat line across one gunman's throat, slicing it wide open in a red firework. He barely lost any speed in the act and clutched the next guard over, exchanging all his momentum for their inertia as he threw them clear across the room. They hit the wall an eternity later with the crack of breaking bones. Panda slit the next throat, and the one after, and then zipped off as a gun was brought up to snuffle at him with its long snout. By the time the bullet came spinning out of the barrel, Panda was long gone. He curved around and snatched an unfired gun, slammed the butt of it into the face of the woman holding it. He heard her neck snap with the sudden force of impact, but he shot her in the face anyway, just for good measure. Blood spattered onto his white trousers, his bare feet. He brought the gun up and sighted his next target.

 _Bang-bang-bang,_ so fast it made the gun jam after only three shots, and the one he'd thrown against the wall jerked like a puppet and dropped. A bullet zipped past his ear and he darted off, bringing his scalpels out again. He killed another guard and took their gun, but the spurting blood from their slit throat had gotten into the firing mechanism and rendered the weapon useless. He threw it at the next guard that took aim at him, watched it break her nose, then zipped off to take care of the one that was already firing.

The bullet grazed his shoulder, leaving a whip's tail of pain across his skin. He snatched the gun from slow and clumsy hands and turned it upon its owner, pouring half the clip into their body until the weapon overheated and jammed. The last guard was crawling on the floor, fumbling for a dead compatriot's gun, blood pouring from her broken nose. Panda zipped over to her, considered for a moment, then took her head in both hands and twisted as hard as he could.

It was not like in the movies, not really. Her head turned sharply and she screamed. He adjusted his grip and yanked his hands in opposite directions. There was a sickly, multi-layered _crack,_ and she slumped to the floor, lifeless.

Panda stood for a moment, panting, looking at the bodies strewn around the room, the blood on the walls and the floor and himself. He grinned, light-headed, and zipped back around the corner.

"Got it," he said brightly. He could taste blood in his mouth, and it might have been on his teeth. "We'd better go before they send more, though."

"Jeshush Chrisht," Zylus muttered under his breath. He struggled to his feet, and Rythian whimpered in his arms. Nano got herself upright as well, and yanked on the collar of Nilesy's shirt to get him to stand.

"Well done," Nilesy said to Panda, faintly. His eyes were glassy behind the mask.

"Thanks!" said Panda. His heart was still pounding, and there was an unsteadiness in his limbs, but he felt like he could conquer the world, if it was asked of him. For now, he'd settle for escaping YogLabs, since that was all it seemed like Nilesy and Zylus were up for, and besides that, Rythian was hurt and needed help, so any conquering would have to wait until he was safe.

"Right, we'd better keep moving," said Nano. She was very carefully not looking at Panda. She took a long moment to orient herself and then started off down the corridor again. "Zylus, can you warn us about any more like that?"

"Probably," said Zylus. "Unlessh they're wearing tin-foil hatsh."

She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Are you serious?"

"Who knowsh," said Zylus.

They made it another five minutes without any interruption. The blood was starting to coagulate on Panda's skin, making him sticky. His heart had not stopped pounding, and the weakness in his limbs had not subsided as it probably should have.

"Um," he said quietly to Nilesy, hanging back a bit. "We might have a bit of a problem."

"Oh, grand," said Nilesy. "What's wrong?"

"Well," said Panda, uncomfortable. "It's just . . . well, I didn't really get a chance to eat before all of this, so—I'm not saying I'm not okay, but just . . . there's a slight possibility I might crash if I keep having to run about like this."

Zylus looked back over his shoulder, his face tight with concern. Panda waved at him.

"It's fine!" he assured Zylus. "Really. I should be fine. Just—it might come up. So we should probably hurry."

"I thought we _were_ hurrying," said Zylus.

"Well, we should probably hurry faster," said Panda. He turned back to Nilesy and said in hushed tones, "And if at any point you want to chip in with the guard-killing—"

"I told you," Nilesy said flatly. "I _can't."_

"Why not?"

Nilesy was silent for a moment, then whispered, "I haven't actually got Powers just now."

Panda stopped in his tracks, stunned. Nilesy grabbed him by the arm and hauled him onward, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"You haven't got—what do you _mean,_ you haven't got Powers?" Panda hissed, nearly falling over himself trying to keep up with the conversation and the walking.

"Temporarily," said Nilesy. "It's not important, I'm fine."

"It's pretty fucking important," Panda said. "What happened? What did they _do_ to you?"

"Later," said Nilesy.

"It's always fucking _later_ with you. When the fuck is _later?"_

"When we're not still in fucking YogLabs," Nilesy snapped. His hand clenched on Panda's arm, and Panda pulled away instinctively. Up ahead, Nano signaled for them to wait, then hurried ahead. Panda stalked on, catching up to Zylus, who was a few paces ahead.

His right knee buckled, and he caught himself against the wall. A flurry of sparks swarmed across his vision, and he shook his head.

"Panda, are you—" Nilesy began, reaching out for him.

"I'm _fine,"_ Panda snapped, pushing back off the wall. "Honestly, you haven't got to mother me. I'm perfectly capable of walking down a fucking corridor."

"I think he'sh crashing," Zylus said.

 _"Shut_ the fuck up and carry your damn spark plug," Panda retorted. "Fucking hell, it's not like you people haven't got _enough_ to worry about."

"Panda, darling—" Nilesy said again.

"Don't you _Panda, darling_ me," Panda growled at him. _"I'm. Fine."_

Just then, Nano hurried back around the corner.

"We're about four corridors away from the car park," she said. "I think I can get us back there, but there are two guards on the door and probably more on the way. Panda, can you clear them out?"

"Why's it always got to be me?" he demanded. "Why can't somebody _else_ take care of it?"

"That's a _great_ question," Nano said, fixing Nilesy with a piercing glare. "Why _can't_ somebody else take care of it?"

"How about I explain when we've got a bit more time, how's that?" Nilesy said.

"If something's wrong with you, I think you'd better say so now," Nano said.

He laughed, although there was an edge to it. "Where do I even start?" he asked.

"It's _fine,"_ Panda said. "I'll take care of it. But you all owe me."

He started forward and then had to take a moment to wait for his head to stop spinning. Just before he headed off again, he heard Nano hiss something at Nilesy.

"Why did I even bother breaking you out, if you're so fucking useless?"

Panda kicked her on the way by with a quiet, _"Oops!"_

Things went a little faster this time, and not in a good way. He found another pocket of guards waiting around a corner, these blocking the hallway. There were only four of them, but the sudden sight of them caught Panda flat-footed. A bullet ripped into his shoulder, tearing off a good chunk of flesh, and the sudden searing pain of it kicked him into high gear.

He darted forward, watching the world drop into slow motion again, snatched the gun of the one that had shot him and bashed it into their face. Another bullet whizzed past the back of his head, yanking out a pinch of his hair. He swung the gun around by its barrel and clocked that guard, too. Then he just nestled the gun in his shoulder and fired, slow and steady, so it wouldn't jam. He emptied the clip into the four guards, took another of their guns and emptied that one, too. His vision was starting to go blurry, no matter how much he wiped his eyes, and the smell of blood was making him ill. Nonetheless, he zipped off again, following the red line and _Exit_ signs, until he found the exterior door and the two guards on it. He managed to dispatch them before either one fired off a shot, slitting their throats _one-two_ in quick succession. That done, he sank to the floor and tried to catch his breath, his legs trembling almost too hard to hold him up.

They did not stop trembling, but he pulled himself up anyway, tromped back down the blood-spattered corridors to where the others were waiting. On the way, he tore off one of the sleeves of his prison shirt and used it to bandage the wound on his arm, tying it off tightly with his teeth.

"We're good," he said, poking his head around the last corner.

Nano got up immediately and hurried off down the hall. Zylus struggled to his feet, clearly beginning to feel Rythian's weight. Nilesy drifted up and took Panda's hand on his way by, though it was smeared with blood.

Together, they all hurried back to the exit, Rythian now unconscious in Zylus's arms. Nano was moving so quickly that Panda was having a hard time keeping up, and Nilesy kept having to tug on him. Zylus glanced back frequently, concern written plainly on his face. Panda stuck out his tongue at him the first time, but didn't have the energy for any further retribution.

Nano slammed open the exterior door and ushered them all through. Her eyes skipped over Panda, darting away and back, as though she was trying not to look at him. The outside air was warm and moist, the sky overhead was gray with high clouds. The skyline was stark against it, black and jagged like corpse-teeth. Nano took the lead again, her steps swift and purposeful, heading for a cluster of cars near the prison sector.

In the distance, a brilliant silver spark ignited against the sky. Nano faltered and then stopped, stared up at it, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.

"Shit," she said. "Shit, shit, _shit!_ Run! Everybody run!"

Nilesy was staring at the silver spark, too, which was growing quickly larger. Panda clutched his hand and yanked, jolting him into motion. He ran, trying to keep pace with the others, but there was such weakness in his limbs that he found himself lagging behind, his breath coming short and his head spinning. One of his knees buckled again and Nilesy just barely caught him before he hit the ground.

"I'm fine," he protested, as Nilesy hauled him back to his feet, half-carrying him along. "I'm fine, Niles, I'm okay—"

"We're not going to make it," said Zylus, looking back over his shoulder. "Everybody put a hand— _two_ handsh on me, and for _fuck'sh_ shake, _hold shtill."_

Panda hurried to get to his side. The spark was taking on shape now, a human shape, rushing across the sky with blinding speed, blue fire at its heels. He wrenched free of Nilesy's grasp and put both hands on Zylus's shoulder, and Nilesy grabbed Zylus's forearm, and Nano darted back to catch hold of his other biceps. The silver spark was closing fast, and Panda could just make out the red pinpricks of its eyes—

The whole world went pitch black and sweltering, the temperature rising with each passing heartbeat. Panda froze where he stood, biting his tongue, his knees locked and his whole body shaking. He could hear Nilesy breathing next to him, could hear Rythian's labored wheezing, could feel the shoulder shivering with tension under his hand. There was a roar overhead, like a jet coming in for a landing. It paused, neither coming nor going, and Panda could imagine the searchlight eyes, the head turning as it scanned the car park, the thin whine of the laser rifles primed to fire. He tasted blood in his mouth, felt dizziness sinking its fingers into his brain. It was so hot now he could barely breathe, he was choking on it, like he'd been put in an oven while wrapped in tin-foil, hotter and hotter and hotter until sweat was pouring down his skin, doing nothing to cool him.

And then, miraculously, the roar moved on, declining in pitch and volume as it streaked away across the landscape. Silence fell, and suddenly light burst back over Panda, like needles in his eyes. All the heat rushed off of him, leaving him drenched in sweat and shivering.

Next to him, Zylus's knees buckled, and he hit the ground hard, just barely managing to keep hold of Rythian. He was pale, sweating, panting, but he grinned up at Nano, who was staring down at him with her mouth hanging open. She, too, was sweating profusely, like she'd been wrapped in a thick blanket.

"Turnsh out I _can_ get all of ush," said Zylus.

Nano opened and closed her mouth a couple of times.

"Well—well good. Thank God for that. Come on, we'd better get in the car before they come back."

Zylus struggled to his feet. Panda tried to help him, but there was no strength in his arms. Zylus shook his head and clambered up on his own, and once again, the four of them hurried off.

Nano led them to a car parked close to the prison, unlocking it with fumbling fingers. Nilesy and Panda climbed into the back of the car, while Zylus finagled himself and Rythian into the passenger's seat, promptly turning them both invisible again. Panda was having trouble focusing his eyes, and it took him no less than six tries to fasten his seatbelt. Nano started the car and pulled out, driving far too slow for Panda's liking.

It was just a hypo. His blood sugar had fallen far and fast, but as soon as he got some sugar in him—juice, candy, anything really—he would be fine again. He would be absolutely, perfectly fine. It just had to happen soon. Very, very soon, if the darkness encroaching on the edges of his vision was anything to judge by.

YogLabs was just south of the downtown area, out where the buildings weren't so thickly clustered and the complex had room to sprawl. The drive wouldn't take more than forty minutes, if traffic was good. Just forty minutes, and then however long it took to get inside, and however long it took to get a juice box out of the fridge, and his hands were shaking and his head was spinning and forty minutes was too long, _way_ too long, he was never going to make it—

"I'm not fine," Panda said, the words falling out of him in a rush. His hands were only dark smudges in front of his face, though he could feel them clenched vice-tight on his own knees. His voice shook like he did, deep tremors that rolled out from the core of him.

"Okay, what's gone wrong now?" Nano said.

"I'm not fine," Panda repeated. "I'm—I'm not fine. I'm dying. I'm going to die. Nilesy, I'm—I'm going to die. I'm going to die, I'm going to—"

"You're _not_ going to die," Zylus said. "Dr. Shoundsh, we need to get to a shop, right now. _Becaushe,_ if we don't get hish blood sugar up, he could go comatoshe or, actually, really, die."

"Won't make it," Panda gasped. His fingers and toes were freezing, starting to go numb. "We're not—we're not—I can't—"

"Nileshy," Zylus snapped, his voice like a whip. "Keep him conscioush."

"How—ahahah—how am I—"

 _"Talk,"_ Zylus said.

A pair of hot, shaking hands cupped Panda's cheeks, and Nilesy lifted his head for him. His face was a pale blur, vignetted in darkness.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, you're going to be all right. Okay? You're going to be all right, darling. We're going to make it."

"I'm g-going to d-die," Panda said. His voice was thready and quiet.

"The hell you are," said Nilesy. "Who said you could die? I didn't sign off on that. How dare you. How dare you so much as _consider_ dying. In front of _me."_

A fluttering breath stole out of Panda, approaching a laugh.

"S-sorry. Didn't know I needed . . . needed—I didn't—"

"Permission? Of course you need permission. It was in the contract, didn't you read it?"

"You never—you never gave me a contract. I never signed . . . uh. . . ."

"No? Well now you _definitely_ can't. . . ."

Nilesy's voice fell beneath a muffled veil, indistinct. Panda shook his head and blinked, trying to pull the world into focus. The numbness was creeping up his limbs, stealing towards his heart and brain. He fumbled up to find Nilesy's hands, clutched them in clumsy fingers, scarcely able to feel their warmth. He was shaking himself to pieces, and the world was tilting crazily around him—although that might have just been Nano's driving. He could feel individual beads of sweat trickling down his face, a stark contrast to the numbness in his hands and feet.

"...hear me?" Nilesy asked, his voice fading back into intelligibility. "Darling? Panda? Come on, stay with me, stay with me, please, don't do this, don't go, I can't—I _can't—"_

"'M here," Panda mumbled. "Still here. Niles. Shh, 's okay. Okay, Nilesy."

"Talk to me," Nilesy begged. "Please. Anything. Panda? Come on, we're almost there, you're going to be all right, now talk to me."

 _"Do not go gentle into that good night,"_ Panda said, the words a breathless murmur. His heart was fluttering in his chest, buffeting his lungs. _"Old age should . . . should . . ._ fuck, I can't—how does it—"

"You've got it," Nilesy said. His voice was shaking. "I like this one, go on. Go on, darling, you know it, I know you do."

The numbness was in his elbows and knees now, accelerating. He was so tired, so _fucking_ tired, all he wanted was to go to sleep, just for a little while, just until he didn't feel quite so bad. . . .

 _"Old age should burn and rave at close of day,"_ he muttered. The words were warm on his tongue, so warm, when the rest of him was so cold, and all he wanted to do was sleep. . . .

 _"Rage, rage against the dying of the light,"_ said Nilesy, tightening his hands on Panda's face.

The world had stopped spinning so much, and somewhere distant there was a thud. He couldn't see Nilesy's face anymore, and he wasn't sure if his vision had gone or if his heavy eyes had just drifted closed on their own.

 _"Though wise men at—at_ . . . Niles, I'm so tired, I can't—"

"Yes you fucking can," Nilesy hissed, shaking him. "Do the fucking poem, Panda, I swear to God."

"Rude," he murmured. He couldn't feel his lips. He was so _tired,_ and Nilesy's hands were warm on his face, and the numbness had crept up to his shoulders and he could feel himself falling.

The last thing he heard was Nilesy calling his name.


	44. Chapter 43

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nano ran up to the counter at the petrol station and slammed down a bottle of orange juice and a handful of gummy worm packages, riffing on Zylus's very basic instructions of _juice, and lots of sugar_.

"I've got a diabetic in the car who's going into a coma and I need to get back there _right now,"_ she said, her voice making the bones of her skull shiver.

"It's on the house, go," the cashier returned, pointing to the door. Nano snatched up the load and ran, not even pausing for a _thank you_ as the alarm went off behind her. There was no time. Panda had been barely conscious when she'd left, and there was no chance he'd gotten better since then.

She sprinted back to the car, parked across two spaces, and flung open the door. She thrust the bottle of juice at Nilesy, who snatched it from her so fast it nearly left a friction burn on her fingers. Panda was leaned up against the back of Zylus's seat, eyes closed, his breathing labored.

"He'sh not quite out yet," Zylus said, still invisible. Rythian's legs, however, hidden safely under the dashboard, were not. Nilesy was tearing the lid off the bottle, his hands sticky with blood. He touched the mouth of the bottle to Panda's lips, and Panda leaned forward ever so slightly. Nilesy took his face in his free hand and helped him drink, one sip at a time, slowly, while Nano crouched there with her fingers digging holes into the car's upholstery and Rythian wheezing quietly in the passenger's seat.

After an interminable five minutes and half the bottle of juice, Panda's eyes fluttered open again.

"Niles?" he mumbled.

Nano collapsed into the front seat. With shaking hands, she buckled herself in and started the car again. She kept well below the speed limit this time, since her focus was shot and her whole body was floaty with adrenaline. She kept glancing back at Panda, making sure he was still conscious. Nilesy was still feeding him sips of juice, and Panda's hands were searching around for something to hold onto.

Twenty minutes later and he was conscious enough to ask if there was anything to eat. Nano passed back the rest of the haul, and Panda started in on it, slowly at first, and then with vigor.

"I'm gonna be so fucking high after this," he said, through a mouthful of gummy worms.

"Better than dead," Nilesy said.

"Better than dead," Panda agreed.

They drove on, nosing through traffic. Rythian stayed unconscious and Panda worked his way steadily through all the sugary junk Nano had gotten for him. Nilesy eventually relegated himself to staring out the window, saying nothing, clutching Panda's hand in the seat between them. Nano found she preferred him that way.

When they got to the Severn area, she started asking Zylus for directions, which he provided clearly and concisely. She figured he would know best where to go, whether it be Lomadia's nest or the flat, and so she didn't question where they were actually going.

"When we're getting close, tell me," she said. "I don't think there's any tracking in this car, but just in case there is, I'm going to drop you and Rythian and Panda off at the nearest stoplight and let you walk back. I'll keep driving for a while and then put the car in the river."

"What about Nilesy?" Panda asked.

 _"He_ is staying where I can see him," Nano snapped. "And definitely _not_ with Rythian."

"Of courshe," Zylus sighed. She could hear the eyeroll in his voice.

"Why?" Panda asked. "Not that I'm objecting particularly, just I don't want to leave him with _you,_ either. Has anybody got any water?"

"No, sorry," said Nano. "And because—just _because,_ all right? I just saved your life, give me the benefit of the doubt."

"You don't get brownie points for saving _my_ life," said Panda. "Everybody in this car has saved _my_ life. Except Rythian, I guess. My life takes a lot of saving, you know, it's not special."

"Panda, darling," Nilesy said softly. "Let it go."

"I said I wasn't leaving you, and I meant it!"

"We'll catch up," Nilesy said. "I'm sure she won't let me get into too much trouble."

"None, if you behave yourself," Nano said.

"There, see?" said Nilesy. "It'll be fine, Panda."

Panda was quiet for a moment, then turned to Zylus. "You're all right with this?"

"I'm not all right with carrying _thish_ fucking load for three blocksh, but I don't give a shit about the resht of it. I want to go home, and the shooner the better."

"You don't really think they're tracking us, do you?"

"I'd rather not take chanshesh."

"It's fine, darling," Nilesy said again. "Nothing to worry about. Honestly. I'll be fine."

Nano glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"You're talking weird," she said. "You'd better not be planning anything."

"Not today," said Nilesy. "I'm fine. Honestly. You'll want to be taking a left up here."

Nano ground her teeth, but took the left. Three stoplights later, Panda and Zylus hurried out of the car, Zylus remaining invisible even as he slipped out the door. She heard him grunt with Rythian's weight, and watched Panda head off down the sidewalk and around the corner.

Silence fell in the car as she drove on, six blocks, eight, a few kilometers down the road. She took turns and wound about, but kept close to the river nonetheless. Eventually, she found an empty lot that backed up on the river and pulled into it. She stopped the car and put it in neutral.

"Get out," she said to Nilesy. "You're helping me push this thing into the river."

"Can't," he said flatly. "Sorry."

"You can either get out and push or you can stay in and drown," she snapped at him.

He looked up at her, and his eyes were cold and dead.

"Don't tempt me," he said, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

She glared. "Get out of the fucking car," she said, and kicked her door open. She stormed around to the back of the car and started counting down in her head.

When she got to _three,_ Nilesy got out, shut his door carefully, and came around back with her. Wordless, he put his hands against the boot and then looked over at her. She, too, said nothing—only adopted a similar posture and counted down from three.

Together, they shoved the car, at first by inches, and then at a walk, and then a jog. With a squeal of metal on concrete, it went toppling over the edge of the lot and fell into the river with an almighty splash. The two of them stood and watched as it sank into the murky water, dragged down and out by the slow current.

"Well," Nano said briskly, dusting off her hands. "I suppose it's time to head back, then. Unless you'd like to stay."

"I might," said Nilesy. "Awfully long walk you've set us up for."

"We're not walking," said Nano. "We're flying, and you're going to tell me how to get back."

"Won't that be a bit conspicuous?" Nilesy inquired, tipping his head to one side.

Again, something shot through Nano's heart, leaving a stinging hole. She stuffed it full of anger and ignored it.

"Less conspicuous than you walking down the street with that fucking mask on and blood all over your hands," she said.

He shrugged and inclined his head. "Fair point," he said. "Shall we, then?"

Nano ground her teeth for a moment, then hoisted herself into the air on the strength of her Power. She grabbed Nilesy under the arms and hauled him up, her skin crawling wherever it touched him. She went up and up, until the city was laid out like a map beneath them. Nilesy pointed northward.

"It'll be that way," he said.

Nano started off without a word, trying her damnedest to resist the urge to just drop him.

* * *

 

They got back to the dingy little complex without any incident, and Nano set Nilesy down in the car park—although it was less of a _set_ and more of a _five foot drop onto asphalt._ She herself flew up to the top of the stairs and tried the door. It was locked, so she knocked on it. A moment later, there was a rasping of metal and then the door opened.

"Hi," said Zylus. "Lom'sh with Rythian in Nileshy'sh room, patching him up. Come on in, I made tea."

He stood aside, and Nano entered the flat for the second time. Panda was lounging on the couch, drinking water from a jam jar and watching television. He appeared to have showered in the ten minutes since she'd last seen him, because he was wearing what were presumably his own clothes and he wasn't covered in blood anymore. Nano glanced at Zylus and saw that he, too, had already gotten changed, into pajamas no less.

"Where's Nilesy?" Panda asked, sitting up as she entered.

"On his way," she said.

"She left him at the bottom of the shtairsh, he'sh fine," said Zylus. He crossed into the small kitchen and pulled down a mug from the cabinet. "Dr. Shoundsh, I'm getting you thish cup of tea and then I'm going to shleep before thish goddamn migraine hitsh."

"Oh," said Nano. "Um, thanks. I guess. Is there somewhere I could sit?"

"There's plenty of floor," said Panda.

"Don't be nashty," said Zylus. "Pull up a chair at the island over here."

Nano went over to the kitchen island and hopped up into one of the tall chairs. After a moment, Zylus set down a cup of tea in front of her, no milk, but apparently with some sugar.

"How did you—nevermind," she said.

He winked at her. "Now you're getting it," he said.

Just then, the door opened again and Nilesy came in. He locked the door behind him, absently, then came a few steps inside and stopped, looking around.

"Lom'sh in your room with Rythian," said Zylus. "I managed to get her on the earpieshe thingsh."

"Oh? Grand, glad he's being tended to."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're positively ecstatic," Nano drawled, rolling her eyes.

"Not just now," said Nilesy. "Maybe later."

"Niles, are you all right?" Panda asked. "You seem really . . . weird."

"Fine, darling," said Nilesy. He was swaying where he stood.

"I don't think you are," said Zylus. He started towards Nilesy, edging around the kitchen counter. Nilesy grinned.

"Whatever makes you say that?" he asked. His voice was light and airy, and his hands were twitching. He was staring into space, his eyes unfocused.

"Okay, now I _really_ don't think you're fine," Panda said, starting to get up. He set his water aside on the little table next to the couch.

Nilesy shook his head slowly. "I'm _fine,_ darling. Honestly. Could I borrow your room for a few minutes? Actually, just the tub, ahahah."

"No," Panda said sharply. "No, not now, not today. And _not_ in _my_ bathroom."

Nilesy turned slowly to Zylus. A little smile was curling at his lips, twitching.

"Zylus?" he asked sweetly.

Zylus opened his mouth to respond when the door to Nilesy's room opened and Lomadia stepped out. Her eyes were downcast, wings close at her back, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Utter silence fell in the room, such that the _click_ of the door closing behind her was deafening.

She raised her head, golden eyes wide, and spotted Nilesy. She immediately burst into a grin and her wings flared out in joy.

"Nilesy!" she cried, delighted.

There was a moment of absolute stillness, and then Nilesy crumpled like an empty can. He dropped to his knees, folded in on himself, dug his fingers into his shoulders and just started _sobbing._ Nano recoiled, taken aback by this bizarre display. Lomadia tutted and hurried to Nilesy's side, kneeling next to him and gathering him into her arms. He was gasping for breath, wheezing, hands clutching weakly at Lomadia's shirt. There were tears streaming out from under his mask, dripping off his chin.

"I know," Lomadia said softly, rocking him in her arms. "I know."

Slowly, Panda got up from the couch and joined the two of them on the floor. Nilesy snatched ahold of Panda's hand and clung on with white-knuckled force, still sobbing too hard to even speak.

"What the hell—?" Nano said, turning to Zylus—but he had already moved from behind the kitchen island. He knelt at Nilesy's side and put a hand on his back, while Lomadia stroked his hair and Panda held his clutching hand. Zylus looked up at Nano, and there were tears in his eyes, too.

"Could you give ush a minute?" he said softly.

"I—sure," said Nano. "I guess I'll . . . stay with Rythian for a bit."

Zylus nodded to her, then turned his attention back to Nilesy. Nano picked up her tea and edged around the cluster of people on the floor to the door of Nilesy's room. Prying her eyes off the spectacle, she opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her with a fair amount of relief.

The dehumidifier filled the bleak little room with white noise. Rythian lay on the bed, blankets pulled up to his chin and nestled around him. His breathing was slow and steady, his lips slightly parted. Nano watched him for a time, torn between letting him rest and offering comfort. In the end, amongst the whirring of the dehumidifier, she sat down on the bed next to him. She wasn't sure whether the little machine was a blessing, or just a reminder of a curse. Rythian did not wake up, and she was glad of it.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, and the words dragged a lump into her throat and pushed tears into her eyes. "I'm sorry for all of this. I'm sorry it had to be here and I'm sorry it had to be them and I'm sorry I—I'm sorry I let this happen to you at all. I'm sorry, Rythian. I am so, so sorry."

He did not stir, his eyes did not flicker beneath their lids. She sat and listened for a time, and heard no sparks cracking in his lungs. She glanced down at the dehumidifier, clenching her hands on each other in her lap.

"You can stay," she said. "For now."

The machine whirred away, unconcerned.

Nano sniffed and turned her eyes back to Rythian. She resisted the temptation to pull the covers back to check on his wounds, because it might have woken him, and God knew he needed his rest. Instead she just sat quietly, watching over him as he slept.

* * *

 

Half an hour later, there was a quiet knock on the door. Nano wiped the last of the tears off her face and got up to answer it. Zylus was standing on the other side, and he, too, had been crying.

"The othersh are in Lom'sh room," he said. "I thought you might want to come out and have shomething to eat. I baked shome potatoesh, shinshe they're pretty much the only thingsh I have the shpoonsh for, but you can shcrounge if you want shomething elshe."

"No, that sounds—that sounds lovely," said Nano. "Thank you."

He nodded and stepped away from the door, and she followed him back out into the main room.

"Do you shtill have your mug? I could shtart shome more tea," Zylus offered, standing next to a chair at the kitchen island.

"That would—also be lovely, thank you," said Nano. She looked around, realized she'd left her mug in Nilesy's room, and hurried back for it. Zylus had the kettle on by the time she got back. She set the mug on the counter and then settled into her chair. Zylus bustled about in the kitchen for a while, getting the tea ready, pulling six baked potatoes out of the oven and setting them on the stovetop to cool. He brought her tea to her and then sat down next to her with his own cup.

"Why—" she began, and broke off, shaking her head.

"Why am I being sho nishe?" he filled in for her. He shrugged, took a sip of his tea. "Becaushe I . . . feel like I have a lot to make up for. On account of . . . lasht time. I wash—it wash—I'm shorry. For . . . all of that."

She collected her thoughts for a moment before replying.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll certainly take that into consideration."

"I'm shorry about the othersh, too," said Zylus. "Nileshy and Panda. They're jusht—"

She held up a hand. "I don't want excuses," she said. "And I _don't_ want to hear about Nilesy. At all. Preferably ever."

Zylus regarded her for a moment, with an intensity that made the back of her neck prickle.

"Are you in my head?" she demanded.

"A little," said Zylus, dropping his gaze. "Shorry."

"I thought you had a migraine coming."

"I had medsh leftover. Shometimesh they do wondersh, provided you get to them shoon enough."

"What were you looking at in there, anyway?"

"Trying to figure out why you hate Nileshy sho much. Don't worry, I found it. You don't have to shay it out loud."

"How can you _put up_ with him?" she said, anger and frustration boiling over all at once. "How can you _live_ with him? How can _Lomadia_ live with him, Christ's sake, she's got a hobby of _killing_ people like him!"

"Maybe you should ashk her," said Zylus.

"I—but—I can't," she said, deflating.

"Why not?"

"Because—because—I don't know, I just can't!"

"You _do_ know," said Zylus, poking his baked potato with a fork and releasing a whiff of steam. "You'd feel like you were breaking the two of them up jusht sho you could be with her inshtead."

All the blood rushed to Nano's face and she sputtered.

"Don't—you don't—shut up!"

"Don't worry, I do thish to everybody," said Zylus. He sawed a neat seam in the top of his potato and started mashing up its insides. "And good newsh: Lom'sh poly. Sho'sh Nileshy, but you don't care about that. I'm pretty sure Panda'sh not, it short of complicatesh thingsh."

"What—poly? What?"

"Polyamoroush? She'sh not unavailable, ish what I'm trying to shay, sho you don't have to worry about _shtealing_ her or anything." He paused, frowning at his potato. "And the kissh washn't cheating, either. She'sh talked about it with him."

If Nano had been blushing before, she was now on the verge of spontaneously combusting. "You—you keep out of that! That's not for other people, that was _private!"_

"Shorry," said Zylus, wincing. "I'm shorry, I get—carried away. Shorry. Jusht thought it might help with the guilt, or—shorry, I washn't thinking."

"Oh, the irony," Nano said, venomous.

Zylus stared down at his now mashed potato, prodding it with his fork. After a moment, Nano softened. She reached out and touched his shoulder, gently.

"I forgive you," she said. "And I appreciate the sentiment."

Zylus shrugged, but made no attempt to pull away. "Shtill. It wash out of line."

"Yeah, but you're . . . you're like, not with all that kissing stuff, right? So—"

"Sho I shtill undershtand fucking _boundariesh,"_ said Zylus.

"Seriously, you haven't got to beat yourself up about this. I'm not . . . _that_ angry. And it pales in comparison to . . . well, everything else."

"Shtill shtupid," Zylus muttered.

"Oh, shut up and eat your potato," Nano said, patting him on the shoulder. She promptly followed her own advice and dug in. The meal was plain, but she was hungry enough that it didn't matter. A few minutes passed in silence while the two of them ate.

"So," Nano began, "how come you're not in there with them?" She tipped her head in the general direction of the adjoining rooms, not knowing which was Lomadia's.

Zylus sighed heavily. "Becaushe Nileshy'sh a messh and I can't deal with him right now. Honesht to God, the shit that comesh out of hish head."

"I can imagine," Nano said darkly. Zylus looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell you with absholute shertainty: you're not doing it right now," he said. "It'sh not what you think."

Nano shook her head. "I don't care! I don't, honestly, care. The less I know about him, the better."

"I'm sure you think that'sh true," Zylus said.

"Okay, if _that's_ how you're going to be: what kind of shit _does_ come out of his head?"

"Fear," Zylus said immediately. "He'sh fucking terrified, all the time. And guilty. And angry. Right now it'sh jusht a messh. He thought we were all going to die. He thought Panda wash already dead, thanksh to you, and becaushe of that _totally_ harmlessh little fib, he wash pretty sure Lom wash gone, too. He wash convinshed Rythian washn't going to make it, and he'sh _shtill_ not convinshed he ishn't going to die. He almosht watched Panda die right in front of hish fashe today, and unshurprishingly, all of thish hash fucked him up royally, in addition to how fucked up he already wash. He'sh not the monshter you think he ish, Dr. Shounds."

"He _murdered_ Lalna," she hissed.

"I didn't shay he washn't a monshter," said Zylus. "I jusht shaid he washn't the monshter you think he ish."

"And what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Maybe you should ashk Rythian," Zylus said cryptically.

Nano sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if that's how you're going to be."

"It ish," said Zylus.

"Can I ask _why?"_

"Becaushe I promished I wouldn't tell," said Zylus. "Shome shecretsh aren't mine to give away."

Nano mulled this over as the two of them finished their potatoes and their tea. Zylus gathered up the dishes and dumped them all in the sink. He was yawning by that point, casting frequent glances at one of the adjoining rooms.

"I think I'm going to . . . you know, go to bed now," said Zylus.

"Understandable," said Nano. "Sleep well."

Zylus snorted. "I'll do my besht." He hesitated, then added, "Thank you. For getting ush out. All of ush. I know you didn't want to, but . . . thank you."

Shrugging, Nano said, "I promised Lomadia I would. Couldn't very well go back on my word."

Zylus gave her a shy smile, then shuffled off to his room, his hands hanging by his sides as though he wasn't quite sure where to put them. Nano sighed and propped her chin on her hands, staring up at the clock above the stove. It was barely six-thirty, even though it felt like a lifetime had gone by since she'd woken up in Zoey and Fiona's flat that morning.

"Oh, _shit!"_ she muttered to herself, fumbling her phone out of her pocket. Quickly, she pulled up Zoey's number and called it, crossing her fingers and biting her lip.

It rang out to voicemail. Her hands were sweating now, her heart hammering. She called Fiona next. It rang, and rang, and rang, and just when Nano was about to give up hope, just when she was growing certain that the two of them had met some terrible fate, Fiona picked up.

 _"Hi,"_ she said.

"Fiona?" Nano said, her heart in her throat.

_"Yep, that's me. Hi, Nano."_

Nano stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to keep from sobbing in relief. The call would almost certainly be monitored, and she couldn't risk giving herself away.

"How—um, how's it going?" she asked instead, although her voice was thin and shaking.

_"Good. It's going good. Zo and me had to chase down somebody this morning. They got away, but we did get to see the robot do its—sorry, his thing."_

Nano's stomach dropped. "You—you did. Um. What . . . thing, exactly, was this?"

_"Oh, the usual. Lasers to bust open doors, special cameras, all that stuff. It—sorry, he got called off before we found anybody, I dunno what for."_

"That's . . . too bad," said Nano. "I'm sorry you didn't catch whoever it was."

 _"Yeah, well, win some, lose some,"_ said Fiona. _"How've you been?"_

"Good! I've been good. Um. Spent the whole afternoon trying to find this paper on—on, well, electrical stuff, but I got it in the end, and it's all fine now."

There was a beat of silence from the other end, and Nano prayed that her message had been clear enough.

 _"That's—that's really good to hear,"_ said Fiona, and she was choked up enough that Nano knew she'd understood. _"I'm really glad you—you got that."_

"Yeah," said Nano. "Yeah, me too. Is—is Zoey there? Is she . . . around?"

_"Um, yeah, kind of. She's in the shower right now. D'you want to talk to her? I could have her call you back."_

"N-no, no, that's . . . that's okay." Too much radio contact was probably a bad idea. She probably shouldn't be using her phone even now, because it could be tracked far too easily. "But . . . but go ahead and tell her I called and that I said I'm . . . y'know, things are going fine and I hope she's getting on okay. With the arm and all."

 _"Oh, yeah, she loves the new arm,"_ said Fiona. _"I think it's just make her want to be a spy, though. It's the grappling hook that's done it."_

Nano laughed. "Oh, God, what have I done. We'll never get her back, now."

_"Such a shame. But she'll make a good spy."_

"Yeah, definitely. Apart from all the talking."

Fiona snorted. _"Spies have to talk lots! And nobody would ever suspect Zo of being a spy, which is really the whole point."_

"Of course!" said Nano. "Should've thought of that. Well, listen, Fiona, it's been really good talking to you, but I think I should get going. Stuff to do, y'know. Science."

_"Yeah, yeah, I understand. It was good to hear from you. Really. We should . . . like, get lunch or something. Soon."_

"I'll see what I can do," said Nano. "Bye, Fiona."

_"Bye, Nano."_

She hung up, hesitated, then turned her phone off. It was only a matter of time before Xephos figured out what had happened, and she couldn't risk leading him here, not while Rythian was still so helpless.

Mulling the conversation over, her brief happiness fell, once again, to worry. There was still Lalnable to deal with. There was still _Xephos_ to deal with, and probably most of YogLabs, too. It was unlikely the killings and the arrests would stop just because of one little prison break. It was entirely likely Xephos would know, or at least suspect, that Nano had been behind it, and that he would be expecting some kind of attempt on Lalnable's life.

Nano put her head in her hands and sighed heavily. Things were never _simple._

* * *

 

About fifteen minutes later, Nilesy, Panda, and Lomadia all came back out of the room on the far left. Panda went straight into another room, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, only pausing to pick up the half-full jam jar of water on the end table. Nilesy and Lomadia came into the kitchen and pilfered a couple of potatoes, bringing them to the little island where Nano sat. Lomadia seated herself closest to Nano, while Nilesy took the chair farthest away. He was still wearing the mask.

"Did Zylus go to bed?" Lomadia asked, opening her potato with a fork.

"Yeah," said Nano. "He . . . um, he managed to not get a migraine, but . . . yeah. I think he was tired."

Lomadia nodded. "I'll say thanks for the potatoes in the morning. Did you already get one?"

"I—yeah, I did," said Nano, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good," said Lomadia. "But if you want another one you can have Panda's. He says he can't have carbs now, he's way too high already."

"We should save it for him anyway, in case he wants it later," Nilesy said.

"How generous," Nano grumbled. "Look, is there somewhere I can sleep? I'm pretty fucking tired myself, and I really don't feel like third-wheeling the two of you."

"We can put Rythian on the couch," said Lomadia. "She can stay in my room and we can stay in your room. That'll work fine."

"No, no, leave Rythian where he is. We'll stay in your room, dear," Nilesy said. He turned to Nano and added, "You're welcome to sleep on the couch, if you like."

"Gee, thanks," Nano said nastily. "Incredible hospitality you've got here."

"I aim to please," said Nilesy. "Though I suppose you could stay with Zylus, if you wanted. No chance of any hanky-panky there."

"Why don't _you_ sleep on the couch?" she asked.

"And _you_ can stay with Lom?" Nilesy returned, grinning. "Bit early in the relationship for that, don't you think?"

Lomadia laughed, and Nano blushed bright red.

"Fucking hilarious," she said. "Good to know I'm a joke to the both of you."

"Not me," said Lomadia. "I just think he's funny."

"Right?" said Nilesy. "You're nothing like a joke, my—"

Nano held up a finger. "If you call me your _little mouse_ again," she hissed, "I will separate your fat head from your skinny little shoulders."

Nilesy frowned, looking aside before returning his eyes to her.

"Did I call you that?" he asked.

"Yes," she retorted. "Several times."

He winced, leaning back in his chair. The expression was somehow incongruous under the mask. "God, I'm sorry," he said, sounding appalled. "D'you prefer _Nano_ or _Dr. Sounds,_ then?"

 _"Dr. Sounds_ from you, thanks," she said primly.

"Will do," he said.

"Do _I_ have to call you that?" Lomadia asked, pouting.

"N-no, no, you don't," Nano said, struggling to keep her voice from squeaking. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Oh, good," said Lomadia, brightening considerably. "Because I like your name."

Nano blushed. "Thanks," she mumbled. She noticed Nilesy watching her, biting back a smile.

"What?" she snapped, bristling.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Nothing, nothing. I'll just take my potato and leave you two alone, then, shall I?"

"No you damn well won't," Nano said. "You'll be staying right here where I can keep an eye on you."

Nilesy sighed, casting his eyes to the ceiling. "Of course," he said. "Just when I thought we were being civil."

"Why?" Lomadia asked Nano. "He's fine right now."

 _"Right now?"_ Nilesy parroted, and there was an edge to his voice. "Well, thank you kindly, dear, that's _very_ helpful."

"What?" she said, shrugging her wings. "It's true."

"It's not _him_ I'm worried about," Nano cut in. "It's him getting his slimy little hands on Rythian again."

Lomadia frowned and opened her mouth, but Nilesy held up a finger. He was watching Nano closely, and something about the intensity of his attention made her hair stand on end.

"I think," he said softly, "there's a conversation you ought to have with Rythian."

"But—" Lomadia said. Nilesy looked over at her and shook his head.

"Best if she hears it from him," he said.

"But he's still sleeping," Lomadia said anyway.

Nilesy shrugged. "I can wait."

"Okay," Nano said, folding her arms. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

"I guess I'm not supposed to tell you," Lomadia said, glaring at Nilesy.

"She won't believe us," he pointed out, shrugging.

"So?" Lomadia demanded.

"It's not our place to tell," he said, more gently.

 _"So?"_ she repeated.

Nilesy sighed. "She'll be angry with you," he said.

"You don't know that."

"I'm pretty sure I do, Lom."

"Well why don't we find out, then?"

"Lomadia, dear, will you _please_ take a fucking hint?"

Nano bristled. "Oy," she snapped. "Don't you dare talk to her like that."

"She can kick my arse herself," he retorted. "So fuck off."

"Hey," Lomadia said. _"Both_ of you be nice to each other, or I'll tie you together."

Nano leered at Nilesy. "Really? I think we both know who'd come out on top with _that."_

Nilesy returned the expression in spades, and there was something about it that made Nano's skin crawl.

"Dr. Sounds," he purred, pressing a hand to his chest. "At least take me out to dinner first."

"Nilesy," Lomadia warned.

He turned to her, languorous, still grinning.

"I'm sorry, dear, I couldn't resist."

She reached over and grabbed him by the jaw.

"Stop it," she said sternly.

Nilesy stared at her for a moment, and his shoulders sagged. He dropped his gaze and mumbled, "Sorry."

She kissed him quickly and let go of his jaw.

"I forgive you," she said. "Go be in my room."

"But—" Nano began.

"While we stay out here," Lomadia went on patiently, "so we'll know if he comes back out. Okay?"

Nano made a face, but said, "Okay."

Downcast, Nilesy got up and went into Lomadia's room without a further word. He left the potato, untouched, on his plate on the island. Nano cocked a thumb at the door once he'd gone.

"The hell was all _that_ about?" she asked.

"He was thinking about killing you," Lomadia said, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. "He does the voice, that's how you can tell."

"He was _what?"_ Nano exclaimed, pressing herself back in her chair.

"I wouldn't've let him," she said. "Don't worry about it, he does it all the time."

"I'm sorry," Nano said thinly, "I think I might be a little _more_ worried about it now."

Lomadia shrugged. "Okay, if you want. We should talk about something else."

"Other than your homicidal boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Nano took a deep breath and let it out again. "Okay," she said, her voice taut. "What should we talk about, then?"

"You," said Lomadia, immediately. "I want to know about you."

Blushing, taken off guard, Nano tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I—what—well, I mean, what do you want to know?"

Lomadia leaned her elbows on the kitchen island and propped her chin on her hands and blinked at Nano with her huge yellow eyes.

"Everything," she said.


	45. Chapter 44

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nilesy spent a long, sleepless night in Lomadia's room, tossing and turning alone in the bed. The sleepless part he had expected—he couldn't have managed more than six hours of sleep in the past four days, and very little had changed except for the scenery. He had not, however, expected to be spending it alone, but as the hours ticked by—eight o'clock, ten, midnight, three a.m., six a.m.—it became apparent that Lomadia would not be joining him. He could hear talking through the paper-thin walls, her voice and Nano's alternating, occasional laughter, occasional silence. Something straddling the line between disappointment and jealousy dug claws into his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The sensation was tantalizing, promising relief from the endless churning of his mind without ever delivering. Finally, as the sun was peeking through the gap in Lomadia's thick curtains, Nilesy gave in and dragged himself to the bathroom. The roaring of water filled his ears as it filled the tub, and he knelt at the side with his hands folded in his lap, fairly vibrating with tension.

The tub filled. Nilesy turned off the water, peeled himself out of his YogLabs prison wear, climbed into the cold water and lay back, letting it close over his head. Breath held, sinuses already full of water and prickling pain, he started counting.

_One, two, three, four, five. . . ._

He barely made it past a minute thirty before his exhausted body gave out and the water flooded into his lungs, searing agony that burned away everything else and left him cool and hollow in its wake. His roiling thoughts simmered down to a placid stillness, and the pounding of his heart slowed to a steady drumbeat that thrummed in the water all around him.

For what seemed like hours, he lay there, until the water grew thick and warm and he started to go sleepy with oxygen deprivation. He opened the plug with his toes and let the water drain around him, rolled onto his side and coughed up what was left in his lungs. The pain of it left him shaking, so he turned the shower on as hot as it would go and scrubbed the grime and tremors from his limbs, scrubbed his skin raw while the water pattered down around him, implacable.

By the time he got out and scavenged some of his clothes from under Lomadia's bed, the sun was fully up and the little clock by the bedside was showing 9:02. He started to head out into the main room, then paused, pressed his ear to the door.

He could hear nothing outside, no movement, no voices. Still, he doubled back and grabbed his mask off the floor next to the bed, slipping it on like a protective glove. Whatever shivering was left in him settled down, temporarily damped. Carefully, he pushed the door open and crept out, guilt gnawing at the underside of his stomach.

Panda was lying on the sofa, eyes closed, an empty glass lying on the floor nearby. He was the only one in the room. Carefully, Nilesy took the mask back off, although he kept it in his hand for safekeeping.

"Morning, darling," Nilesy said, keeping his voice low.

 _"Uuuuggghhh,"_ Panda groaned, barely moving.

"Still high?" Nilesy asked, coming a little further into the room.

"So fucking high," said Panda. "I feel like my _face_ is going to explode."

Nilesy came over to the sofa and stooped to pick up the discarded glass. "I'll get you some more water then, shall I?" he asked.

Panda swatted at him halfheartedly. "I fucking hate water. I'm fucking sick of water. I peed thirty times last night."

An involuntary snort made it out of Nilesy's mouth and he clapped a hand over it, belatedly.

"I'm so sorry, darling, that sounds terrible," he said.

"You're not," said Panda.

"Just because I think it's funny doesn't mean I can't feel sorry for you," Nilesy returned, heading for the kitchen. He filled the glass up and brought it back to Panda. It was heavy in his hand, heavy and cold and weirdly _distant._ He just managed to put the glass down before the shaking of his hand sloshed any water over the sides.

"Thank you," Panda mumbled, heaving himself upright. Nilesy sat down next to him as he started sipping on the water. Panda winced at every taste.

"Your insulin's not gone bad, has it?" Nilesy asked, watching him carefully.

"Not yet," said Panda. "But sometimes it just doesn't do _fuck_ all. Except if I try to make up for it not doing fuck all, at which point it'll start working again and I'll go way too low. It's horrendous."

"I can imagine. You're all right, though? Not a crisis or anything?"

"No, I think I'll be all right. I've dealt with worse."

"You _have?"_

"Oh, yeah, once when I was fifteen I got so high I had to go to hospital, it was _awful."_

Nilesy winced. "Well, I'm glad it's not that bad," he said.

"Y'know, me too." He took another sip of water. "Ugh. Anyway. _I'm_ all right, how're you?"

He considered this for a moment, then leaned over until his shoulder was touching Panda's.

"Better," he said. "Not . . . _well,_ but better than I was yesterday."

"Thank _God_ for that," said Panda. "You scared the shit out of me, you know that?"

"Ahah. Yes. Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm just glad you're better now."

Nilesy nodded. "D'you know where Lom's got off to?"

"She's having a nap in Zylus's room. We thought you might be sleeping, and she didn't want to wake you up, just in case."

Tipping his head to the side, Nilesy asked, "Can't Zylus tell?"

"Zylus isn't here," said Panda, shaking his head. "He and Nano went off to get groceries. I promised to keep you off of Rythian."

"You _did,_ did you?" said Nilesy. The mask was warm in his hand.

Panda looked over at him slyly. "When're you going to tell her, anyway?" he asked. "I mean, it's pretty obvious what she thinks you did, you're not just going to let her go on thinking it, are you? She's practically at your throat every time you're in the room."

"It's better if Rythian tells it," said Nilesy. "She won't believe me. I say _I didn't do anything wrong_ and what she hears is _I'm a sociopath, ha ha._ Honestly, Panda, what would I even say?"

"You could go for, _he was super into it,"_ said Panda.

"I'm sure _that'll_ go over well," Nilesy drawled, rolling his eyes. "I don't know what he told her, but whatever it is, it's pretty fucking water-tight."

"Harr harr," said Panda. "Why don't you go ask him, then?"

"Thought you were supposed to keep me off him," said Nilesy, side-eying Panda.

Panda shrugged. "I don't give a fuck, I know what happened."

"Last I checked, you weren't very pleased about it."

For a moment, Panda stared down at his glass of water, jaw clenched, frowning. He took a deep breath and sighed it out again.

"Look," he said. "I'm a jealous little fuck, okay? And I don't like him. And I don't like the two of you together, and I'd be happy if you never so much as _looked_ at him again. But . . . that's not how you work, and I get that. I can't—it'd make you unhappy, if you had to settle down with . . . anyone. I think. I'm pretty sure. So no, I don't like it, and I don't like him, but I'm not going to ask you to—to give him up for me. Because I know I'm not worth that to you and I—"

"Stop. Stop stop stop," Nilesy interrupted. He put an arm around Panda's shoulders and squeezed him. "It's not about worth. Don't even _mention_ worth. Nothing to do with that. You're _worth_ the world to me, and I wouldn't trade you for a single thing in it."

"But—"

"Please let me finish, darling, I've had this conversation before and I've got a script," said Nilesy. "I don't love you any less than I did before I met Rythian, just like I don't love Lom any less because I'm dating you, too."

"But you wouldn't leave him for me," Panda said, sulking.

"No," said Nilesy. "And d'you know, I wouldn't leave you for him, either. I wouldn't leave you for Lom. I wouldn't leave you for _anything,_ because I love you. D'you understand? Nobody else has any bearing on that."

"I guess," said Panda.

"It's just the same as me being bi," said Nilesy. "I don't love one gender any less just because I can love other ones, too. It's not like there's a maximum amount of love I'm capable of and I've got to divide it up between everyone I know. That'd be hell, honestly. Sorry, you're all out of love to give, wait for the first of the month when it refills."

Panda snorted and ducked his head. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and sniffled.

"The _point_ is," said Nilesy, squeezing him again, "the only thing Rythian's taken is a bit of my time. And I get that that can be frustrating and hard to deal with. Lom got a bit lonely when I started after you, too, and then she got a hobby and now look at her! She's a superhero, practically, if a bit of a messy one."

"Yeah," said Panda. "I guess."

"I'm sorry I can't be all yours all the time," said Nilesy. "And for whatever it's worth, I'm fucking jealous of Dr. Sounds, taking up Lom's time, even when I'm not using it."

Panda looked over at him, wide-eyed. "You _are?"_

"Yeah," said Nilesy. "Is that surprising?"

"I didn't—I didn't know you _could_ get jealous!"

"Don't get given much opportunity," said Nilesy.

Panda was quiet for a moment, sipping on his water. He leaned his head against Nilesy's, eyes lowered.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For being all . . . horrible. About Rythian. I'll try to do better. Especially since he's hurt."

"Thank you," said Nilesy. "I know that's not easy."

They sat in silence for some time, while Panda finished his water.

"So are you going to go talk to him or not?" Panda asked at last.

Nilesy sighed. "S'pose I'd better," he said. "Before the incorrigible Dr. Sounds gets back. Breakfast'll have to wait."

"If you haven't eaten, you should eat," said Panda, frowning. "Rythian'll keep. I can hold Nano off, honestly."

"It's better if you don't have to," said Nilesy. He squeezed Panda one last time and got to his feet. "A few more minutes won't kill me."

"Lucky," said Panda, and drained the last of his water. Nilesy gave him a tight smile, then, upon consideration, took his chin in his hand and kissed him.

"I love you," he said softly. "Very, very much."

Panda touched his wrist, his eyes large and bright. He smiled.

"I love you too, Niles," he said.

Nilesy kissed him twice more, once on the lips and once on the forehead, then turned and went into his own room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Rythian was lying on the bed, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. He was pale, thin, his eyes sunken in dark circles and his cheeks hollow. Nilesy glanced back at the closed door, listening to the soft whirr of the dehumidifier.

At the insistence of his gnawing guilt and a thistle-toed anxiety creeping up the back of his neck, he put the mask back on.

Nilesy sat himself on the edge of the bed and folded his hands on his thigh. Rythian's breathing remained slow and steady, and for a time, Nilesy sat in silence, just watching him. It was something of a comfort, seeing him so calm and soft and _living._ He resisted the urge to touch him, much as he wanted to take his hand, to feel the warmth of his skin, to measure the beating of his heart as it kept time in his wrist. Better he kept his distance until Rythian was conscious—there was no telling if he would want to be touched, and if he didn't, he certainly shouldn't have to wake up to it.

After a few minutes of placid quiet, Rythian's eyes came open, slightly unfocused, and he looked over at Nilesy.

"Hallo, you," Nilesy said softly.

Tears sprang to Rythian's eyes, and his face pulled taut with pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut again. His breath came short and uneven, halfway between gasps and sobs.

"Hey, _hey,"_ Nilesy said, a pang shooting through his chest. "It's all right, you're all right. Nobody's going to hurt you. You're out now, you're safe. It's over, Rythian. They can't hurt you anymore."

"I'm s-s-sorry," Rythian choked, and sobbed, his hands clutching weakly at the bedsheets. "I'm sorry, I—I tried—I was—I was going to—to k-kill you—"

"Oh, God, _Rythian,"_ Nilesy exclaimed. He took his face in his hands, and Rythian leaned into the touch, still weeping helplessly. "No, no no, you haven't got to be sorry. I understand, _believe_ me, I understand. It's okay. I'm just glad you're all right."

Another sob burst through Rythian's lips, and Nilesy wiped the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs.

"It's all right," he murmured. "It's all right, Rythian. I love you. All right? I still love you."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say, watched it shatter Rythian into a thousand more pieces, leave him sobbing uncontrollably and gasping for breath, though even that was weak and subdued.

He heard the door open and knew it wasn't the only mistake he'd made.

Nilesy's head snapped up, and he saw Nano standing in the doorway, framed in light and fury, and he yanked his hands away from Rythian and stumbled back from the bed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"This is really not what it—" he began, as Nano stormed into the room.

She decked him in the mouth so hard it laid him out flat on the floor.

He lay there, splayed on his side with his head spinning and his ears ringing, the taste of blood sharp on his tongue. For an instant, he was frozen solid, the mask askew on his face—and he couldn't tell if it had come off, the pain was blotting out such subtle sensation—but after a moment he concluded that it was still there enough and he could breathe again. Blood was dripping onto the carpet from his split lip, and Nano was standing over him, seething.

"Should I bother getting up?" he asked. "Or d'you want to have another go?"

As an answer, she put her foot on his head. The pressure of it bowed the mask out from his face, and panic scrabbled through his chest like a dog on hardwood floors. His lungs seized up, and his hand twitched.

He couldn't make her stop. He couldn't do _anything_ to her. They'd taken his Power from him, again, just like he'd known they would. She could hurt him however she liked and there was _nothing_ he could do—

A giggle bubbled out of his mouth, driven up by the roiling fear inside.

"How _dare_ you," Nano growled. "How _dare_ you lay your filthy fucking hands on him. After _everything_ he's been through, after _everything_ you _did_ to him—"

"You've really got to have that little conversation we've been talking about," he said, the words spurting out of him in panic.

"Shut up," she snapped, putting more of her weight on his head, pinching his ear against his skull, making his cheekbones ache.

"Don't," Rythian said, his voice weak and frail and shaking.

Nano froze for an instant.

"Excuse me?" she said quietly.

"Don't—don't h-hurt him," he managed.

"All right, what kind of Stockholm _bullshit_ is this?" Nano demanded, grinding her foot down on Nilesy's head.

His hand twitched again, fingers curling at the pain. There was no way to make her stop, no strength in him. They'd taken it from him and it hadn't come back, it wasn't coming back. He was helpless, helpless, helpless, and not even the mask could fix it.

"Knew you wouldn't believe me," he said, and another giggle chased the words out, and he hated how _crazy_ it made him sound. "You won't even believe _him!"_

"Shut _up,"_ she insisted.

"Bit hard to do when you're asking me questions, ahahah."

"Then maybe I'll move on from talking. How's that? _Maybe_ I'll move on to the bit where I _stamp your fucking face in."_

"Nano," Rythian whimpered, and the sound of it was like an icicle through his abdomen.

"Christ, at least don't do it in front of _him,"_ Nilesy begged.

Nano paused, and the pressure from her foot lessened.

"Rythian," she said quietly, her voice apprehensive. "I think maybe there's something you haven't told me."

There were fifteen seconds of silence.

"It . . . was fake," Rythian managed, his voice hoarse and trembling. "I—I was—I . . . wanted . . . to be here. With—him, with them, I—it's not—he never—"

"You mean to tell me," Nano said, her voice low and full of fury, "that you've been letting me think, for _two fucking weeks,_ that he _drugged_ and _raped_ you, when you _joined up with him?"_

"Be fair, he was in prison most of that—" Nilesy began.

 _"You shut the fuck up,"_ she snarled at him, then rounded on Rythian. "You _joined_ them? You—you were part of it, weren't you? You _helped_ them. You _helped_ them _kill Lalna!"_

"I know," Rythian whispered brokenly.

"I felt _sorry_ for you!" she cried, her voice cracking. "I _knew_ you were lying and I tried to help you _anyway!_ And you—you—I should've left you back there!"

Nilesy grabbed her ankle and forcibly removed her foot from his face. Her shoe snagged on the mask, but didn't pull it off. She wrenched her leg free from his grasp, and he got to his feet, placing himself between Nano and Rythian. He had a good six inches on her, but she looked like she was about ready to tear his throat out with her teeth.

"If you're going to blame anyone for that," he said softly, holding her gaze, "blame me."

"Shut up, just _shut up,_ you sick little _freak!"_ she spat, shoving him in the chest. There were tears in her eyes. He took a single step back with her shove and remained unbowed.

"I think we can agree we've all made some incredibly stupid mistakes," Nilesy went on. _"I_ murdered Lalna, _he_ lied to you, _you_ sold the lot of us out to YogLabs. You've every right to be angry, _but._ Ahahah. If I think for one _second_ that you're seriously considering sending him back there, I will kill you. D'you understand me, Dr. Sounds? I will snap your fucking neck."

"Like to see you fucking try," she retorted, shaking where she stood.

He tipped his head to the side. The mask was cool and sturdy against his skin, and it pulled his mouth into a smile.

"No," he said quietly, "I don't think you would."

"I'm not scared of you," she declared, fists balled at her sides. There was a sheen to her skin, and a sharp, stinging smell.

"Good!" he said, grinning. "I'd love it if we could all three move past this and treat each other civilly. But especially you and Rythian. He hasn't got many friends and I'd hate for him to lose one over a stupid little mistake he made under the influence of trauma."

"You sound like Xephos," she hissed at him.

It was meant to cut deep, and it did—struck right through the mask to the dark and freezing core of him, kicking silt into his mind and hauling him deep beneath the surface, dragging him down towards that abyssal rage that lurked so far below. His fingers twitched. It would burn his hands, but what sweet pain it would be to hear that wet and twisted _crack_ like punctuation on her life, what pretty blisters she would leave him to remember her by. . . .

But it was true, and he could hear it like an echo on his words, and it made him sick—and the knee-jerk desire to murder her, that made him sick, too, and all the rage seemed to drain away, left him ugly and empty and weak.

He lowered his eyes and swallowed.

"Sorry," he said, and his voice was hoarse. "That—that came out wrong. I'm sorry. And—no murdering. From me. I'll—I'll just go."

Nano folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said simply, shrugging.

"Then get out," she said sharply.

Nilesy ducked his head and hurried out, his skin burning, his blood cold.

"Oh, God, _Niles!"_ Panda said, the moment he emerged. "Zylus, you said she wasn't going to hurt him! You _said!"_

"Apparently she changed her mind," said Zylus, from the kitchen.

"Christ, Niles, are you all right?" Panda asked.

"Fine," said Nilesy, and locked himself in Lomadia's room again.

* * *

 

Eventually, it was Lomadia who came to get him, slipping into her room trailing the smell of toast. Nilesy had been listening to Nano yell at Rythian for the past hour, unable to hear the responses but catching every berating word that came from her mouth.

 _I trusted you. I cared about you._ _ They _ _cared about you. How could you?_

"Hi," said Lomadia. Nilesy curled his knees a little closer to his chest and pulled the covers up over his head.

"Go back to sleep," he said.

"You're in my bed," said Lomadia.

"Never stopped you before."

"Get up and eat something, and then I'll go to sleep."

"Not hungry, thanks though."

Her weight settled on the bed, her hand touched his shoulder. "Eat something anyway," she said. "If it was one of us sulking, you'd say the same thing."

"I'm not _sulking,"_ Nilesy snapped.

"You are," said Lomadia. "It's okay, sulking isn't bad. I made you toast so you don't starve. And there's tea if you want."

Nilesy sighed, then sat up. Lomadia helped him, keeping a hand on his shoulder. He ran a hand back through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

"A person just can't starve to death in peace round here," he said.

Lomadia kissed him on the cheek. "Nope," she said.

He took the plate of toast from her and forced himself to take a couple of bites. It tasted like ash, and it made his stomach clench like a fist, but he did it anyway, for Lomadia's sake. She was watching him, her head tipping back and forth, her hand warm on his shoulder. She curled a wing around him, the soft feathers brushing his arm. He nearly burst into tears again, and the lump in his throat kept him from swallowing.

"I'm glad you're all right," he said, and his voice shook more than he'd expected it to.

"I'm very good at being all right," said Lomadia. "I was scared you wouldn't be, because you're not very good at being all right. So I'm glad you're all right, too."

He leaned against her, trying to keep the trembling from returning, trying to wash it away with the heat of her body.

"I thought I was never going to see you again," he said. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You haven't," said Lomadia, and kissed his temple. "I'm right here."

He sniffled, set the plate of toast down on his knee. He put his arm around her and toyed with the small feathers at the base of her wings, the ones that never quite lay flat.

"Your new girlfriend punched me in the mouth," he said at last.

"Why?" Lomadia asked.

Nilesy shrugged. "Because she thought I'd hurt Rythian."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "I think you probably deserved it. For not telling her the truth."

"She wouldn't've _believed_ me, Lom. She _barely_ believed Rythian when _he_ told her."

"Did you try?" she asked.

He fidgeted. "Well . . . no," he said. "But you've seen what she's like, she wouldn't—"

"She doesn't like you," said Lomadia.

"Clearly. And now she's tearing Rythian a new arsehole—"

"Good," said Lomadia.

Nilesy lifted his head and looked up at her, frowning. _"Good?"_ he said.

"Good. He lied to her and that's a lot of why she doesn't like you."

"Only a _lot,_ dear?"

"Yes. Not everybody's going to like you, no matter how much you want them to. It's not your fault, it's just because of who you are as a person."

"That's very comforting," he said dryly, "thank you."

Lomadia shrugged. "It's true. It's not a big problem or anything, she just doesn't like you."

"It's a bit of a problem if you're going to be dating us both," said Nilesy.

Lomadia paused.

"You're jealous," she said.

"I don't see what that's got to do with anything."

 _"You're_ jealous."

"You just said that, dear."

"You said it was fine for me to snog her."

"It is! It's perfectly fine!"

"Then why are you jealous?"

"I don't know!" he said. "I don't _fucking_ know, Lom, and I feel like hell about it, all right? I'm sorry, I wish I could stop, but I don't think it works like that."

She considered him for a moment, then nodded. She kissed his temple again.

"Okay," she said. "We can stop talking about it now, if you want."

"That'd be fantastic, thank you."

She left another kiss on his face, warm and tingling. "What're we doing next?" she asked. "Nano says there's another robot that's killing loads of people."

"I know," said Nilesy. "And we'll deal with that soon. But _first,_ we're going to wait for my Powers to come back."

"And then?"

"And then," said Nilesy, "I'm going to murder Xephos."

 


	46. Chapter 45

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Eventually, Nano ran out of beratements for Rythian, and stormed out to let him soak in it. She was burning with rage, sick with betrayal and, strangely, disappointment. In Rythian, mainly, for lying to her, but also in herself, for believing him so fully, for trusting him so completely despite his obvious falsehoods. She felt like she should have known better, or at least should have pried a little more.

And, of course, there was fresh pain over Lalna, like a scab ripped open before the wound underneath had healed. Knowing that Rythian had been in on it only made it worse—what would Lalna have thought, if they had known? How much would it have hurt them if they'd found out that the man crying over their corpse was instrumental in its making?

She was almost glad they'd died before they found out. At least they couldn't hurt anymore.

Panda was out in the main room, lounging on the couch and watching TV. He was still drinking water, and there was a sickly sheen to his face, bags under his eyes. He looked up at her lethargically as she shut the door behind her, then immediately turned his eyes back to the TV.

"Are you done?" he asked. "Only if you're going to go back at it I'm going to leave the volume up."

"No," said Nano. "I'm done."

"If you're going to the kitchen, could you get me some more water? I'm still high as hell and I don't feel like getting up."

With a sigh, Nano went into the kitchen and, after a bit of hunting, brought Panda a glass of water. He took it without looking at her and started drinking it immediately, a look of disgust on his face.

"Where is everyone?" Nano asked, glancing around the empty living room as she folded her arms around her waist.

"Lom's with Nilesy in her room," said Panda. "Zy's in his room, probably playing Halo or something. He's probably upset enough for Halo. He's mad he didn't catch that you were going to hurt Nilesy, which he should be."

"I wasn't sure I was going to hurt him until I walked in there," said Nano.

Panda shrugged. "Whatever. You can try making him feel better about it, but he won't. Hey, I've got a question."

Nano sighed again. "I guess I haven't got anything _else_ to do."

Panda looked up at her. "Why're you so pissed at Rythian and Nilesy and not the rest of us?"

"I—well," said Nano, blinking. "I guess because—I don't know, it seems like—it seems like you're just sort of . . . going along with it? But Rythian knew what he was doing, and he—Lalna trusted him. They loved him. And he got them killed for _no_ fucking reason, and it's horrible and I'm—"

Panda waved a hand at her, wrinkling his nose. "I heard," he said. "The walls are super thin here. But why Nilesy? He didn't do anything worse than the rest of us. Well. _Much_ worse, I guess."

Nano opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked away.

"You saw him," she said.

"Yeah," said Panda. "I also saw that news broadcast where the robot killed like, twenty people in like six seconds."

"That _wasn't_ Lalna," Nano snapped.

Panda shrugged. "Okay, maybe not. But _we_ didn't know that. Nobody knew that. And _you_ want to kill the _other_ robot now, too, so obviously you know where we were coming from. Seriously. It's not _just_ Nilesy's fault. The rest of us helped."

"I didn't hit him because he killed Lalna," said Nano.

"I don't care why you hit him," Panda said. "Just don't do it again."

"Is that all this was? Couldn't you have said that like, five minutes ago?"

"Could have," said Panda. "Maybe I was trying to be nice and have a conversation. But if you're going to be a bitch about it, fine."

"Call me a bitch _one_ more fucking time," Nano snapped, leveling a finger at him. "You misogynistic little fuck."

Panda considered it for a moment, sipping his water.

"Sorry," he said.

"Thank you," she replied primly. "Listen, is there somewhere I can be alone in here? I need to cool off before I melt something."

"Go outside," said Panda. "I'll probably leave the door unlocked for you."

"I'd rather not, since there's probably a murder-robot looking for me right now, and I _am_ a bit distinctive."

"You were out grocery shopping like an hour ago, so clearly you're not _that_ worried about it."

"Yes, but—look, that's not the _point._ That was a stupid risk, anyway, and I shouldn't have done it, and the more I think about it, the stupider it was, and I don't want to do it again! And I wasn't alone then, either, so—so it's different."

He thought about this, his brow furrowed.

"I was about to go back to my room anyway," he said. "So you can hang out in here if you want. Zylus doesn't mind if you play his games so long as you put everything back where you got it from, so that's something to do. Or there's TV. And I guess you can probably have mostly anything in the fridge, since you helped buy it. Just don't eat the last of any candy or juice or anything like that, because I might need it if I crash again."

"Thank you," Nano said, more sincerely this time.

Panda shrugged. "I sort of get it. Needing to be alone or whatever when you're super pissed." He got up, taking his glass of water with him. "If you need anything you should probably ask Zylus, because I'm sort of useless and I _know_ Nilesy's useless and Lom's probably going to be taking care of him all day."

"Right," said Nano. A burning had started up in her veins, making her blood sizzle and her chest tighten. She swallowed hard, fighting down the curses that queued at her teeth. Taking out her frustration—and jealousy—on Panda would hardly be productive.

"We usually do dinner at like, seven," said Panda. "Just so you know. Because people will probably start coming out of their rooms about then. You good?"

"I'm—good," said Nano.

"Super," said Panda. "See ya."

And with an irreverent wave, he shuffled off to his room. Just on the threshold, he stopped. He seemed smaller all of a sudden, and when he glanced back, his face was worried.

"Um," he said. "Nano?"

"What?" she said.

He hesitated a moment longer, chewing his lip, then shook his head.

"Nothing," he said, and went into his room, and shut the door.

Nano dropped herself onto the couch and put her head in her hands, waiting for it to stop pounding.

* * *

 

Evening came, and dinner passed uneventfully. Panda made vindaloo, which was quite good, and although conversation was at a minimum, it was at least civil, almost pleasant at times. Lomadia took Rythian some crackers and juice, then declared that she was going to bed.

"Bed?" said Nano, looking at her askance. "Aren't you, like, nocturnal?"

Lomadia fluffed her wings. "I was up all day and now I'm tired," she said.

"You didn't _have_ to stay up, dear," said Nilesy.

"I'm not blaming you, I'm just tired. You can keep on staying in my room anyway."

"I thought you wanted to sleep," said Nilesy, a smile curling the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Nano muttered, rolling her eyes.

Lomadia frowned, looking at the ceiling. "You're right," she said. "You should stay with Panda. It's his turn anyway."

"Yes, thanks," said Panda.

"Can't I stay in my _own_ room? By myself?"

"Gee, that's flattering, Niles."

"Nothing against you, darling, I just—ahahah—I wouldn't want to keep you awake."

"There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep anyway, my blood sugar's still fucked."

"Panda, darling, I'll make it up to you later, I promise. Right now, tonight, I need to be alone. All right?"

Panda pouted. "All right," he said. "But you owe me."

"I do," said Nilesy. He turned back to Lomadia. "So, I'd like to stay in my room, by myself."

"Rythian's in there."

"Then I'll sleep on the couch."

"Then where's _Nano_ going to sleep?"

"Oh, I don't know, dear, maybe wherever you put her last night?"

"We didn't sleep last night," said Lomadia. Nano blushed, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

"You _didn't?"_ Panda gasped, leaning forward and grinning.

"Don't," Zylus said. "Panda, jusht don't."

"We were—we were just talking!" said Nano, her voice leaping into a high and flighty register. "It got—there was a lot to say, morning just sort of . . . happened."

"It was nice," said Lomadia, affectionately.

"It—it was really nice," said Nano, looking at her hands.

"Very happy for you both," said Nilesy. "Maybe _she_ can stay with you tonight."

"I said I wanted to sleep, though," said Lomadia. Nano blushed so hot she thought she might explode. The temptation to bury her face in her hands and flee from the room was growing stronger with every passing second.

"N-no, that's—that's fine, I don't really—want to. Just now. Um," she said.

"Nano can stay with Zylus," said Panda. "That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Um," said Zylus. Nano looked over and saw, to her surprise, that he was blushing. "No, not—that'sh fine, it should be . . . okay."

"If it's not—" Nano began. Zylus waved a hand at her, cutting her off.

"No, really, I'm jusht—weird. Don't worry about it. You can shtay in my room. With me. Not a problem."

"If you say so," she said.

After another hour or so of stilted conversation, Nano excused herself and went off to Zylus's room. He hurried after, mumbling excuses as he went. He let her in, then followed behind her and shut the door.

His room was small, but homey. There was a desk with a large, open-sided computer, an LCD monitor, a keyboard, and an angular mouse resting on a colorful mousepad. There was a pile of dirty clothes at the foot of the bed, a mini-fridge shoved into the corner, posters of retro video games plastering the walls. A small University of Bristol flag had been hung in the window. There were several empty Diet Coke cans underneath the computer desk, some crushed, some not. There was a nondescript bottle of pills on the nightstand.

"It'sh not much," Zylus said. "But it'sh home. Feel free to ushe the shower. Um. I guessh you don't have anything to change into, but if you wanted shome, like, pajamash or shomething, I've got exshtrash."

"A shower would be lovely, actually," said Nano. "And if you've got a spare t-shirt and shorts, I'll have them."

"Sure," said Zylus. He bustled about the room stiffly, handed her the requested items of clothing and scratched the back of his neck.

"Thanks," said Nano. "See you in a bit."

The shower was rather awful, with approximately the water pressure of a small child crying, but it was nearly hot and it got all the sweat and grime off of her, even if it left her smelling like nutmeg and pine trees. She toweled off her hair and came back out. Zylus had changed into pajamas and was sitting at his computer, but he got up when she entered the room.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," said Nano, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Everything . . . good?" he asked.

"It was fine, thank you," said Nano.

There was silence for a few seconds.

"I um," said Zylus, standing there fidgeting. He cocked a thumb at the mini-fridge. "I have a bottle of wine I've been shaving. If you want to, like, shplit it. Or shomething."

She raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Sherioushly! I jusht—yeah. I wash going to have shome and . . . shinshe you're a guesht, I thought it'd be, y'know, polite to offer."

"I would . . . actually really like that, Zylus," she said.

He smiled, his eyes flicking up to her before dropping to the floor again.

"Right," he said. "I'll jusht—I'll get a couple glasshesh and . . . yeah. Be right back."

He hesitated a moment, then hurried out of the room, his fingers picking absently at the fabric of his pajamas. He returned shortly thereafter with two glasses—real ones, not repurposed jam jars—and handed one to her. After that, he got a large bottle of moscato out of the mini-fridge and went to sit on the bed. Nano came and sat beside him, and he filled both their glasses.

"Cheersh," he said, raising his glass.

"Cheers," she returned, clinking her glass against his.

* * *

 

"It'sh jusht sho _shtupid,"_ Zylus said, lying on the bed with his arm thrown over his eyes. Nano was propped up against the wall, her legs draped over his. "It'sh like—it'sh like—people can't even _touch_ each other without it _meaning_ shomething. You know? It'sh sho _shtupid!"_

"Definitely," said Nano. She was warm and floaty and her vision wouldn't quite focus, but for the first time in a long time she wasn't worried about anything, and it was amazing. The empty bottle of wine stood on the nightstand next to two empty glasses.

"It'sh like, okay, I get it, touching ish nishe, right?" said Zylus. "I fucking _love_ cuddlesh. But it alwaysh _meansh_ shomething. You can't cuddle shomebody without them getting all _sherioush_ and catching fucking feelingsh for you. Sho I had to—I had to jusht _shtop touching people,_ and it _shucksh."_

"That's awful," said Nano. "God, it's been—it's been a really long time since I've gotten to . . . to just like, cuddle with someone."

Zylus raised his arm and looked at her. "Not even Lom?" he asked.

"No, we sort of—we just sort of—hang on, can't you just _look_ and see?"

"I'm drunk," said Zylus. "You're drunk. It'sh like trying to read—trying to lishten to—it'sh like—look, I can't fucking exshplain it, becaushe I'm drunk, but it'sh not working right now, okay?"

"Aw," said Nano. She reached down and patted his thigh. "Poor thing."

"No, I like it," said Zylus, with a tone of vicious contentment. "I don't give a shit what you're thinking. Hah! I don't! I don't give a shit, it'sh fucking _great."_

"I'm going to—I think we need some water," said Nano. "D'you want some water?"

"Yesh," said Zylus.

Nano got up, more unsteady than she'd thought, and took the two glasses to the bathroom to fill them up. By the time she got back, Zylus was sitting up, rubbing his face.

"Thish wash a shtupid idea," he said, as she handed him his glass of water.

"Yeah," said Nano. She climbed up onto the bed next to him and leaned on him heavily. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Both of them sipped on their water, working steadily through it.

"We're all going to be dead in a week," said Zylus. "I'm calling it. Ten poundsh."

 _"No,"_ said Nano, rolling her eyes.

"What, you think _thoshe_ idiotsh out there are going to shurvive the fucking wrath of YogLabsh? I don't think sho."

"They are pretty stupid, aren't they," said Nano.

"You have _no. Idea,"_ said Zylus.

"Honestly I don't know how you live with _any_ of them."

He sighed. "It'sh a fucking shtruggle. Exshept Lom. _God_ she'sh got a pretty mind. It'sh all shoft and quiet—really really quiet, it'sh wonderful, you don't even know—and jusht . . . jusht . . . I love her. I really jusht—she'sh amazing."

"She's . . . yeah," said Nano, blushing again. "Yeah, _amazing's_ a good word."

Zylus finished his water and rested his head on hers.

"You're . . . you're pretty amazing too," he said. "Jusht . . . sho that'sh out there. You're like a—like a brick . . . brick houshe."

"Excuse me?" said Nano, raising an eyebrow.

 _"Not_ like that," said Zylus. "You're like . . . shelter from the shtorm. A shafe plashe. You know? Like that. Rain on the windowsh. A fire when it'sh shnowing. Hot chocolate, shit like that. That'sh what you're like. For me. I know it'sh a lot more broken than that, but . . . that'sh what you're like to _me."_

Nano was quiet for a time, finishing her water. She took the glass from Zylus's unresisting hand and put both empties on the nightstand.

"I think we should go to sleep," she said quietly.

"Probably," said Zylus. "Do you—can I—shorry, thish ish shtupid—do you want to be little shpoon? Ish that okay?"

"That . . . sounds nice, actually," said Nano.

The two of them lay down, Nano's back to Zylus's chest, and Zylus draped one arm around her waist while she rested her neck on his other biceps. She wrapped her hands around his outstretched arm and adjusted her head on the pillow. His breath was warm against the back of her head, and she could feel his heartbeat against her shoulder-blades.

Many minutes passed, she wasn't sure _how_ many. Sleep was stealing up, but there were things that needed to be said, words too rough to pass without the lubrication of alcohol.

"Zylus?" she whispered.

"Hm?" he said, raising his head a fraction.

"Did you—did you mean it? What you said about Nilesy when I was—when you were—back in the storehouse?"

There was a pause.

"Which part?" said Zylus.

"About—well, I guess . . . I guess . . . you being scared of him. You wanting out and not . . . being able to leave. That part."

Again, Zylus took a moment to answer.

"I don't want to leave," he said at last. "And even if I did, he wouldn't shtop me. He'd be upshet, but more in a . . . shad kind of way. He'd missh me. But . . . he shcaresh me. He shcaresh the hell out of me."

"So why are you staying?" she asked.

Zylus shrugged. "Truth? Becaushe it'sh shafer here than anywhere elshe. Becaushe—lishten, thish doeshn't leave the room, okay? Thish doeshn't leave tonight."

Nodding, Nano said, "Okay."

"Becaushe," Zylus said softly, his breath hot on the back of her neck, "I've got him wrapped around my little finger, and I could shnap him like a twig in ten wordsh."

Despite the warmth of the alcohol and the other body next to her, Nano shivered, her skin breaking out in goosebumps.

"And you . . . like that?" she asked. "Even though you're scared of him?"

"Everybody getsh their kicksh shomehow or other," said Zylus. "Ash long ash he doeshn't hurt me—or Lom or Panda—I don't hurt him. But it'sh nishe knowing I could."

"Is it like that with everyone? That you could just—say the right thing and . . . and like, ruin their whole life?"

Zylus snorted. "God, I wish," he said. "Not everyone'sh ash eashy to manipulate ash Nileshy. I feel bad about it, shometimesh. It only worksh becaushe he'sh shick. Thingsh wrong with hish brain. Deep thingsh. Shometimesh I tell him to get help, but that'sh moshtly becaushe he makesh _me_ crazier jusht by being in the room. He doeshn't lishten anyway."

Nano was quiet for a time, thinking this over.

"I wondered why you were with them," she said, "because I thought you were a good person."

"I'm not," said Zylus.

"Yes," said Nano. "I can see that now."

"You want me to shleep on the floor?"

"No," she said. "I don't think I'm a very good person, either."

"Whatever you shay," said Zylus.

No more words passed between them, and eventually Nano fell asleep.

* * *

 

She woke up some hours later, groggy and hungry. The clock by the bed said it was half past three in the morning. Zylus was out like a light, so she gingerly extracted herself from his arms and got out of the bed. He mumbled to himself and rolled over, but did not seem to wake. She waited a moment to make sure he was really out before moving away, in case the floorboards creaked or the door squealed.

Nano shuffled out into the living room, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Nilesy was draped on the arm of the couch, still fully dressed and wearing the mask, glaring at a glass of water on the end table and occasionally curling the fingers of his right hand. Every time he did, a ripple would roll out from the center of the glass, as though something large had taken a step nearby.

"You're still awake?" Nano asked, making her way to the kitchen.

 _"You_ try sleeping on fucking bupropion," he retorted. He twitched his fingers, and the surface of the water agitated and then settled.

She tugged open the fridge and started rooting around in it. "What's _bupropion?"_

"Technically," said Nilesy, "it's an antidepressant, but it's also got the lovely side-effect of suppressing almost ninety percent of kinesthetic Powers."

Nano turned slowly, a bag of bagels in her hands. On the couch, Nilesy curled his fingers, the motion slow and arduous, as though he was trying to lift a great weight. The water in the glass distorted, piling up into a cone, and then dropped back to its ground state. Nilesy cursed under his breath.

"Seriously?" Nano said.

"Oh, yes," said Nilesy. "They've got all the dirty little tricks. D'you honestly think I would've been sitting there _not_ pulling the plumbing out of the goddamn walls if I'd had a choice in the matter?"

"Well," she said, uncomfortable, "you _were_ sort of—"

"Rhetorical," he interrupted.

Again, he curled his fingers, his jaw clenching, and again the water tried to rise out of the glass and dropped back as though exhausted.

Nano took out a bagel and stuck it in her mouth, then put the rest of the bag back in the fridge. She sat down in one of the tall chairs at the kitchen island, watching Nilesy as he continued to struggle with the glass of water.

"How d'you know what it is?" she asked. "What they gave you, I mean."

The corner of his mouth curled up in something that was not quite a smile. "Let's just say I've got experience," he said.

"Oh, is it going to be _mysterious_ then," Nano said, rolling her eyes.

"Unless you'd _like_ to know my tragic backstory," he said, his voice lilting. "Could go on for days. Might even make me a bit sympathetic, I'm sure you don't want _that."_

"I couldn't give two shits what's happened to you."

"There, y'see? Mystery's the better option for the both of us. I haven't got to talk about it, and you haven't got to hear about it."

Nano mulled this over for a time, slowly working her way through the bagel. Nilesy went on fiddling with the water in the glass, his focus unwavering and his efforts almost entirely unfruitful. His expression was inscrutable under the mask.

"You can't've got away from YogLabs before," Nano concluded at last.

"Can't I?" he inquired politely.

"No, because people don't get out."

"I'd say that's _manifestly_ untrue."

"All right, if _that's_ how you're going to be about it. _Have_ you got away from YogLabs before?"

"No," he said bluntly. Yet again, he tried to raise the water from the glass. His hand was shaking.

"Then how d'you know a damn thing about bupropol or what the fuck ever?"

"Because, as a villain, I've decided it's my responsibility to know as many weaknesses as possible, including my own," said Nilesy. "And since YogLabs has got all their lovely science results published up where anyone with a university library card can see them, it hasn't been terribly difficult to find out everything I'd ever need to know. Silver to negate teleportation. Effect of tranquilizers on hypermetabolic systems. What having a highly acidic body chemistry does to your bones."

Nano paused halfway through a bite. Nilesy was still staring fixedly at his glass of water, still making no progress.

"That's . . . published?" she asked.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. Buried a mile deep in fucking jargon, but it's there. Along with the mention of bupropion to suppress kinesthesis. Very well studied, apparently. Does wonders for your smoking habit, too."

Again, Nano took a moment to think this over.

"That's not the same as experience," she said.

"Beg pardon?" said Nilesy, tipping his head to one side. Something squeezed on Nano's heart, and she ignored it.

"You said you had _experience_ with this stuff," she said. "Reading up on it isn't experience."

This time, it was Nilesy who took his time to answer.

"There's a place called _Fair Isle,"_ he said at last, "where they put you if you're too broken to ever get fixed. You can only get there by boat, because you don't put mad freaks on planes, and you can only pay in cash. No idea if it's affiliated with YogLabs, but it might as well be. It's as much a mental institution as YogLabs is a medical facility. You take the medicine they give you and if you're very lucky they already know what it'll do to you. If you _don't_ take your medicine, they stick a needle in your neck and stuff it down your throat with a tube. You get to keep the tube, on account of now they don't trust you to fucking swallow. It's a miserable, hollow, ugly little place in the middle of the fucking ocean, and the whole perimeter's done up in razor wire. All nine miles of it."

"On the _ocean,"_ said Nano, seizing on the least horrifying facet of the monologue. "Well, that explains how _you_ got loose."

"Oh, yeah," Nilesy sneered, "it was a fucking _breeze."_

He clenched his hand into a fist. The water in the glass hiccuped and sloshed, not even escaping the rim of its container.

She looked away and swallowed. "I'm . . . sorry," she said. "It sounds awful."

"Thanks," said Nilesy. "It was."

Nano hesitated, then asked, "When—"

"No," he interrupted. "I'm done." He clenched his hand again, and the water vibrated in the glass. His face was nearly as pale as the mask, his jaw tight, and his hand was shaking. With a sudden, sharp exhalation, he dropped his forehead to the sofa's arm and let his hand fall. His breath was coming short, as though from exertion. He let out a frustrated growl that broke up into a laugh halfway through and banged his fist on the end table.

Clutching her bagel to her chest, Nano sidled around the sofa and back to Zylus's room. Nilesy did not lift his head as she went, and it was with no small amount of relief that she closed the door between herself and him.

"Christ," she muttered to herself, and took a bite of her bagel.

"You have no idea," Zylus said groggily.

Startled, Nano whirled around. Zylus was still lying in bed, but he had thrown one arm over his eyes and his mouth was a thin line.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she said.

"You didn't," he said. "Directly, anywaysh."

"What's that mean?" she asked.

Zylus shrugged. "Well, _shomething'sh_ shet Nileshy off, and you were jusht out there."

"When you say _set him off—"_

"He thinksh too loud when he'sh upshet," Zylus explained. "It'sh like the fire alarm'sh going off in the nexsht room. I can tell _shomething'sh_ wrong, but there'sh no telling what it ish, exshactly."

"I think he's just pissy because his Power isn't working," she said.

"That'd do it," said Zylus. He shifted in the bed, wincing. "Can't shay I'd _mind_ shome of that jusht now."

Nano snorted. "Don't say that _too_ loud, someone might take you up on it."

"I lived more than twenty yearsh without Powersh, I think I'd manage."

"You'd miss it and you know it."

"Are you going to eat that damn bagel or not?"

She looked down at the half-eaten bagel in her hands. Purely out of spite, she took a huge bite of it.

"No," she declared with her mouth full.

"Shuch a shame to shee good food go to washte."

"A tragedy."

"Can I have the other half?"

"No. Why should I give you half my bagel? If you want one, _you_ can go get one."

"I gave you half a bottle of wine."

"You got me drunk so you wouldn't feel as awkward around me."

"I got _me_ drunk sho I wouldn't feel ash awkward around you. I shared becaushe it'sh good mannersh."

"Go get your own damn bagel."

"You weren't going to eat it anyway."

"I never said that. When did I say that?"

"Jusht now, when I ashked."

"That was sarcasm."

"Wash it?" He frowned. "Shorry, I . . . can't really pick up tone over the mental shirensh going off in the nexsht room."

"Oh," said Nano. "Well, sort of—look, I don't _really_ want the other half, you can have it if you want."

Zylus sat up and rubbed at his face. "Yesh, thanksh."

She took one last bite of the bagel and then crossed to him, holding out the remainder. Just as he was about to take it, though, a thought occurred to her and she withdrew it.

"Hang on," she said, eyes narrowed. "You're not just playing me for pity so I'll give you food, are you?"

"No," said Zylus. He made a grab for the bagel.

"Yes you are!" she said. "You totally are!"

"I think I desherve a little pity, conshidering all the shit I have to put up with."

"Maybe, but you don't deserve half my bagel when you could go get your own."

Zylus frowned, then rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look," he said. "If I go out there, one of two thingsh ish going to happen. One, Nileshy will try to talk to me, and it'll be fucking awkward, or _two,_ Nileshy _won't_ try to talk to me, and it'll be _really_ fucking awkward. Sho I'm not going out there, and eshpecially not for a bagel."

"What, that's _it?_ It'll just be _awkward?"_

"It'sh clinical," he said. "Do you want to shee a doctor'sh note? Becaushe I have one." He gestured to the pills on the nightstand.

"For what, awkwardness?"

"Try _debilitating shocial anxshiety."_

"Seriously?" she asked. "You?"

"What about me?"

"Just—I dunno, you don't _seem_ particularly anxious."

"Of courshe I don't," he said. "That'd be showing weaknessh, and I can't _posshibly_ do that. Shomething terrible would happen. Don't ashk me what, becaushe the anxshiety hashn't bothered to exshplain it."

Nano pursed her lips, then handed him the uneaten half of the bagel.

"Here," she said. "So you don't die from terminal awkwardness."

"Thanksh," he said, taking it from her. "I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything," she said.

He looked up at her, somewhat distressed.

"Pleashe let me owe you one," he said. "Otherwishe I'll never feel like I've paid you back."

"But you don't have to—"

"It'sh a _thing,_ okay?" he said. "Jusht—humor me."

Nano shrugged and flopped down on the bed.

"Fine," she said. "You owe me one. You can pay me back by—oh, I dunno, making me tea in the morning."

"Done," he said. "And . . . thank you."

"You're welcome," she said.

Although Zylus eventually settled down and went back to sleep, Nano lay awake for hours, until the gray light of dawn began to brighten the window.

The name _Fair Isle_ would not stop crawling around under her skin.

 


	47. Chapter 46

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The next few days passed in relative peace, albeit tensely. Rythian eventually managed to get out of bed, at first with help and then on his own. He didn't have the energy for more than a few minutes of conversation and perhaps a small meal, but he was recovering, and that was a weight off Nano's shoulders. He seemed unable to look her in the eye, and generally didn't speak if she was in the room. Nano was all right with this, and in fact wished that certain others of the party would follow suit.

Nilesy was always awake when she got up in the morning, lying on the couch or making breakfast or playing video games, always with the mask on. The third morning dawned to a lush bloom of bruises on his neck, and it did not escape Nano's attention that Panda seemed a good deal happier and more complacent the entire day afterwards. She spent a good portion of that day hidden in Zylus's room, pretending that no one else was there.

On the fourth day, Nano got up late, somewhere around ten o'clock. She shuffled out into the main room, yawning and rubbing her eyes, to see Lomadia, Zylus, and Panda all gathered around the kitchen island, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Morning," she said, making for the refrigerator and breakfast.

"Shh," said Zylus, and cocked a thumb at the couch. "He'sh finally shleeping."

Nano stood on her tip-toes and peered over the back of the couch. Nilesy was curled up there, still wearing his mask. Someone had put a blanket over him.

"Fine by me," she said, keeping her voice down. "Unless he talks in his sleep, too."

"I really don't like it when you're mean to him," Lomadia said.

Nano pulled up short. Something clutched tightly around her heart.

"Sorry?" she said.

"I don't like it when you're mean to him," she repeated, and shrugged her wings. "I like him a lot. You don't have to, but _I_ do."

"Oh," said Nano, guilt curdling in her stomach. "Um. Sorry. I'll . . . try not to do that, then."

Lomadia nodded. "Thanks," she said.

Nano fidgeted for a moment, then sighed and went back to foraging for breakfast.

"So what're we doing today?" she asked. "You three looked like you were talking about something."

"Nilesy was talking last night," said Panda. "After you went to bed. He wants to go after Xephos."

"No surprises," said Nano. "Aren't his Powers gone, though?"

"Washn't going to shtop him before," said Zylus. "Not going to shtop him now."

"He's welcome to go get himself killed if he—" Nano began, then stopped herself, looking over at Lomadia. "I mean. Has . . . anyone tried talking him out of it? Since he hasn't got Powers?"

"They're back," said Lomadia. "Sort of. Mostly, anyway. And we _should_ get Xephos. We've been sitting about for _ages,_ it's time to do something."

Zylus frowned, lifting his head and looking around. He said nothing.

"But we can't go after Xephos," said Panda. "At least, not first."

"Why not?" said Lomadia.

"Doesh anybody elshe shmell shmoke?" Zylus asked, still peering around the room.

Nano sniffed. "Nope," she said.

"I don't," said Panda.

"No," said Lomadia.

Zylus shook his head. "Never mind, ignore me."

"All right," said Panda. "Anyways, it's stupid to go after Xephos first. The robot'll tear us to shreds if we do."

"No it won't," said Lomadia. "We can kill it, too, and then we won't have _any_ more problems."

"I don't think it'll be that simple," said Nano. "At all. Xephos must know what we're planning, or at least have a guess. I think Panda's right, going after him first is a bad idea."

Zylus put a hand on the kitchen island, as though to steady himself. He had gone pale, and was blinking rapidly.

"No it's not," said Lomadia. "We can kill Xephos really easy. He's not strong or anything. The robot could maybe hurt us, but Xephos can't."

"The robot will _be_ there, though," said Panda.

"You don't know that," said Lomadia.

Zylus shook his head. He made an odd little noise, almost like a cough. His eyes were watering.

"Zylus?" said Nano, brows drawing together. "Are you all right?"

"I'm—I don't know," said Zylus. His voice was strangled. "Shomething'sh . . . not right. I can't—it'sh like it'sh all . . . burning. There'sh—I can shee it, I can . . . _shee_ it, it'sh—"

He broke off in a fit of coughing, propping himself heavily on the kitchen island. Panda and Lomadia looked at each other, alarmed.

"Is—is this bad?" said Panda. "Is this like, something bad? What's—I mean, what could—"

Lomadia turned her head around, looking at the couch. "Maybe Nilesy's dreaming," she said.

 _"Fuck,"_ Zylus hissed, putting his hands over his face. "Shit, fuck, that'sh—she'sh right, that'sh it, I know thish one—"

"Wait, sorry, _what's_ happening?" said Nano.

"Apparently Nilesy dreams loud," said Panda. "Zylus gets spillover. And I guess he picked some up, 'cause sometimes he gets them when Nilesy doesn't. Zy, are you okay? D'you need anything?"

"No I'm—I'm okay, it'sh fine, it'll—Jeshush fucking Chrisht, I can hear them fucking shcreaming—"

"That really does _not_ sound fine," said Nano.

"Shame fucking thing every fucking time," Zylus said. His voice was shaking, breath coming short. He was sweating, his skin waxy. "I don't even know who the fuck they are, they jusht—they jusht—"

Suddenly his eyes went wide, and all the breath rushed out of him, and he turned a sickly shade of green. He hissed in a rattling breath, clutching the kitchen island until his knuckles popped.

"Wake him up," he croaked. "Wake him up, wake him up, _wake him up wake him up—"_

Panda was gone in a blur, zipped off to the sofa where he shook Nilesy awake. Lomadia took hold of Zylus's shoulders and held him up, while Zylus continued to stare at nothing like he'd just seen the face of death.

Nilesy started screaming.

"Shh, hey, hey, it's okay!" Panda said hurriedly. There were distinct sounds of thrashing. "It's okay! It's me, it's you, we're here, you're okay, Niles!"

As suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. Zylus put his head on the kitchen island and let out a shuddering breath. Panda continued to murmur assurances, the words lost beneath the pounding of Nano's heart in her ears. Lomadia sat down next to Zylus and wrapped a wing around him, rubbing his back. The door to Nilesy's room cracked open and Rythian shuffled out, a bedsheet wrapped around his shoulders. Nano leaned against the kitchen counter, at a loss.

"What the fuck just happened?" she asked at last.

"He gets nightmares," said Lomadia. "It's okay, he's fine."

"I don't—" Nano began, and stopped herself before she could finish with _give a fuck about Nilesy._ She looked down at Zylus, catching his breath with his forehead on the kitchen island. "Is Zylus okay?"

"Moshtly," said Zylus, his voice thin. "It'sh never happened when I've been awake before. _Fuck._ Jeshush Chrisht."

"Is . . . everyone okay?" Rythian asked, hovering in the doorway.

Lomadia turned her head around to look at him, and he recoiled slightly.

"Yes," she said. "Do you want breakfast?"

Panda was still murmuring to Nilesy, and Nano could faintly hear the rattle of strained breaths. She did not look over the back of the couch again. Instead, she put the kettle on.

"Um," said Rythian, "I—I guess? I . . . it's just, there was screaming."

"He does that," said Lomadia. "It's okay."

Rythian glanced at the sofa, then wrapped one arm around his waist and put a hand over his mouth. He looked strange, without his respirator—unremarkable, scarred, older. It hadn't been so noticeable when he'd been lying on the bed half-conscious, but now, with him upright and active, it never failed to strike Nano how _vulnerable_ he looked.

Right on cue, he coughed, and pressed a hand to his ribs.

"I'm just—I'll be in . . . here," he said, gesturing to Nilesy's room. "If you need me, I guess."

"Rythian, um," said Nano, as he was turning to go. "I'm . . . I'm glad you're doing better."

He glanced up at her, meeting her eyes for just a fraction of a second.

"Thanks," he said. "Me, too." And he shuffled back into Nilesy's room and closed the door behind him.

"We've really got to get him a new mask," Nano said, half to herself. "I wonder if Zoey could make another one. . . ."

On the couch, Nilesy sat up, carding a hand back through his hair. She could only see the back of his head, but it was clear he wasn't wearing the mask. As she watched, he settled it back on. Panda climbed up on the couch and sat down next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

"Zylus's had some ideas," Nilesy said. "Or at least, he's mentioned having ideas."

"I'd have to take apart the dehumidifier," said Zylus. "It'sh not feashible right now. Beshidesh, we've got bigger thingsh to worry about."

"Not just now," said Nilesy. "You haven't got to be involved in the next thing, really. None of you have."

"Oh, God, not this again," Panda mumbled. "Nilesy, for the last time, you're _not_ doing this alone. It's not happening. We're coming with you, like it or not."

"I'm not," said Zylus. "I'm shtaying here. There'sh no way Rythian can go, either."

"Well—okay, but the _rest_ of us—"

"Even Lom?" Zylus asked, raising his head off the kitchen island.

"Yes," said Lomadia. "Of course."

"Lomadia, dear—" Nilesy began.

"I'm going and you can't stop me," said Lomadia.

Nilesy looked over the back of the couch at her. There was a smile playing about his lips, and he paused a moment before he spoke.

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear," he said.

Nano folded her arms. "I hope none of you are expecting _me_ to volunteer to go with you, because I'm not doing it."

Nilesy gestured to her. "See there? Dr. Sounds has got the right idea about it."

Zylus straightened up, rubbing his forehead. "I'm shurprished. Usually she'sh not that good at taking inshtructionsh."

 _"Instructions?"_ Nano said, bristling. "I'm not taking _instructions_ from _anyone._ I'm staying here because I _want_ to, same as you."

Zylus shrugged. "Whatever helpsh you shleep at night. Nileshy shaysh to shtay, I'm shtaying. I'd jusht be in the way anywaysh. I guessh you probably would be, too."

"I would _not,"_ she retorted. "I know that building a thousand times better than _any_ of you, and I've got more experience with . . . with Xephos's robots than anybody outside of Section L, _and_ I know where Xephos's office is, _and_ I have access to the building, and—"

"Good thing you're shtaying home, then," said Zylus.

"I'm sure I'll manage, darling," said Nilesy. "And honestly, Panda. You shouldn't come. You _or_ Lom. I'll be fine. And if I'm not, ahahah. At least you won't have to see it."

Panda scowled at him. "The whole _point_ of us being there is so that you _won't_ get hurt."

Waving a hand, Nilesy said, "We'll talk about it later. Is there breakfast? I'm _starving."_

And that was all that was said on the matter.

* * *

 

That night, just as Nano was settling in with a book she'd borrowed from Panda, Zylus suddenly sat up straight and looked over at the door.

"Sherioushly?" he said.

"What?" said Nano, apprehensive.

"Nileshy'sh shneaking out," said Zylus. "Lom musht be out. Fucking hell."

"Wait, sneaking out? Like—"

"Probably to kill Xephosh," said Zylus. "Sho if you're going to pitch in, now'sh the time to pony up."

Nano gave it a good five seconds of thought before she dog-eared the page and set the book down. She got up, put on her shoes, and strode to the door. Just before she stepped out, she turned to Zylus.

"If I don't come back. . . ." she began.

"I'll tell her," Zylus said softly. "But it'll be really fucking awkward, sho be sure you come back."

Nano managed to crack a smile, even though her palms were sweating and her heart was quivering in her chest.

"I'll try," she said. "Just to spare you from terminal awkwardness."

Zylus winked at her. "Do that Valkyrie thing," he said.

"I've heard I'm good at it," she replied.

She stepped out into the main room just in time to see Nilesy opening the front door. He wasn't wearing a suit, presumably because he'd only had the one—but he'd clearly made an effort to look professional. The mask was situated on his face, so much a part of his appearance that it seemed to be growing out of his skin.

"Oy," said Nano.

Nilesy paused.

"Sneaking out, are you?" she asked.

"That was the general idea," he said. His voice was light and airy, slightly slurred.

"Awfully long walk to YogLabs."

"I'm not in a rush."

"Xephos won't even be there at this hour."

A smile curled Nilesy's mouth. "Yes he will," he said.

Nano folded her arms. "And you know this _how?"_

"Call it a hunch," said Nilesy. "He doesn't _go_ home when he's got a project on."

"Again: you know this _how,_ exactly?"

Before Nilesy could answer, there was the sound of an opening door behind Nano. She turned just in time to see Panda vanish in a blur back into his room, only to reappear a second later, fully dressed and stern.

"You were going to leave without me," he accused.

"Ahah, well," said Nilesy. His eyes were glassy behind the mask. "Perhaps we'd better go before anyone _else_ decides to join."

"You're just going to run off _without Lom?"_ Panda said. "When she said she was going to come?"

"She can hate me when I'm dead," said Nilesy. "With her wings _on."_

"How very noble of you," Nano sneered.

In answer, Nilesy walked out the door. Panda brushed past Nano, hurrying after him, and Nano followed, rolling her eyes.

"Is he always like this?" she asked.

"No," said Panda. "I think he's having an episode."

"Oh, _brilliant,_ what the fuck does _that_ mean?"

Panda shrugged, pushing open the front door. "Usually he kills somebody," he said.

"And you just _let_ him?" Nano cried, horrified.

"Yeah," said Panda. "Because I don't want to be the person getting killed."

Nano didn't have an answer to that, so she just followed him out into the night.

* * *

 

YogLabs was nearly deserted at this hour. They'd taken Zylus's car, with Nano driving and the other two hidden in the back seat. Panda had dashed back for the keys, which apparently Zylus had given him without question.

Nano pulled up to the gate, palms slicking the steering wheel with sweat. She rolled down the window and the night guard looked in. Their face froze, and then their eyes widened and their hand moved towards the computer in front of them.

There was a _crunch_ as the car door slammed open, and a black and white blur, and the glass of the booth cracked and spattered with red as Panda slammed the guard's head into it. They slumped out of their chair, unmoving, eyes open and glassy. Panda peered at the computer for a moment before prodding the screen. With a squeal, the gate started to open.

"Are they dead?" Nano asked, as Panda got back into the car and shut the door.

"I dunno," said Panda, shrugging.

 _"Are they dead?"_ she repeated, her voice shaking.

"Dr. Sounds," Nilesy said softly, "please drive."

"Shut the _fuck_ up," she snapped at him. The gate was fully open. In a moment it would close again. "Did you fucking kill them? Did you—"

Something seized her foot and pressed it down on the gas. The car lurched forward, roaring through the gate as it began to close. Nano shrieked and slammed her other foot down on the brake. The car lurched again, the engine revving wildly as it shuddered its way into the car park.

 _"Nilesy!"_ Panda cried, startled.

Nano felt him lean up next to her as the pressure on her foot released and the car settled into stillness. His breath tickled her neck as he spoke.

"If you're going to get in the way," he murmured, "I'm going to move you. If you're going to get squeamish about murder, you can drop me at the front."

"You're not killing _anybody_ on _my_ watch," Nano snapped. The car idled in the middle of the empty car park. Floodlights filled the flat asphalt with spills of light and runnels of shadow. A few cars gleamed like lost marbles, scattered. Most of the windows were dark, but one or two were still lit, peering sleepily out into the dark of night.

"Nano," Panda warned. "Don't."

She looked over her shoulder. Nilesy was leaning his temple against her headrest, his fingers curled on the shoulder of her seat. He grinned at her.

"I'd ask why you came," said Nilesy, "but I've just realized: I don't care. Bye."

And he popped his door open and stepped out, making a beeline for the building.

"Why _did_ you come?" Panda asked, throwing his own door open.

"Because I want to know what the _fuck_ is up with him and Xephos," said Nano. She turned the car off and yanked the key out of the ignition. "And because Lomadia loves him, and I think she'd be a bit upset if he died, and since she's not here to help, I guess I've fucking got to."

Nilesy was halfway to the building, his pace quick and confident.

"And you want to _stop_ us from killing Xephos?"

"Walk and talk," said Nano. She got out of the car and hurried after Nilesy. Panda caught up in an instant with a gust of wind. "And yes. I do."

"Why?"

"Because it's _murder!"_

"It's Xephos," said Panda. "After everything he's done, he _deserves_ to die."

"He deserves punishment," said Nano.

"He's murdered _dozens_ of innocent people! How is that not death-worthy?"

"It is!" said Nano. "But what he _deserves_ is a conviction and a jury of his peers! News coverage, evidence, _proof,_ a watertight case that throws him and all his fucked-up ideals under the goddamn bus for _everyone_ to see. Not a fucking . . . _madman_ in the middle of the night!"

"Put a fiver in the jar when you get home," Nilesy sang back over his shoulder.

"What?" said Nano.

"I'll explain later," said Panda.

Nilesy got to the doors and tugged on one. It did not open.

"I've got it," Nano said, hurrying up behind him. She slid her keycard through the reader, which beeped once. The light remained red. Nano scowled and slid her card through again. Again, the reader beeped, and again the light did not change.

"Oh, dear," Nilesy purred. "Looks like they've cut you off."

"Shut up," said Nano. She took a step back, looked the door up and down, and put her hand on the card reader. Power poured into her skin, and the reader began to sizzle.

"Is that . . . going to work?" Panda asked, dancing from foot to foot and glancing back over his shoulder.

"Plan B is: we kick the fucking door in," said Nano. The reader was melting, dripping onto the ground. Something inside it let out a drawn-out moan and died. The door did not open.

"Oh, well done," said Nilesy, grinning.

"Fuck off," said Nano. She shook out her hand, then wiped the excess slime on the wall. She yanked on the door. It slid open without resistance.

"Oh," said Nilesy, blinking. "Well done."

"Bite me, pool boy," she retorted, and stormed inside.

 


	48. Chapter 47

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The elevator ride down to Xephos's office had never taken longer. The three of them had not encountered anyone in the lobby or the corridors beyond, not even a janitor, and for whatever reason Nano's keycard had still worked once they were inside. She had stayed at the front of the group, leading them onward. The absence of security was making her nervous—she had expected a gauntlet of guards in the wake of the prison break, but if anything there was _less_ security than usual. She couldn't fathom why this would be the case, and it made her stomach churn with dread. That, on top of the other concerns curdling in her guts.

She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have come. If she was going to stop Nilesy from killing Xephos, she should have done so back at the flat—she should never have let him get this far, let alone _helped_ him. She couldn't think what she would do to stop him. Her foot was still tingling from where he'd pressed it to the gas pedal, and her veins were squirming with the thought of all the water in them.

 _You're seventy percent water,_ she could hear Zylus saying. _How much of a chance do you think you stand?_

The elevator slowed, and stopped, and with a cheery _ding_ the doors opened. Nano stepped out into the corridor and stopped. With a shaking hand, she pointed down the corridor.

"Last door on the left," she said.

Nilesy touched two fingers to his masked forehead and started off. Panda hesitated a moment, then trailed after. Nano followed, hanging back with him. Nilesy was still moving with that same calm determination—unhurried, unshakeable. It reminded Nano, with a heavy twinge of pain, of the way Lalna had walked down this same corridor, likewise intent on having things out with Xephos.

She wondered if, maybe, she shouldn't just let him kill Xephos. Maybe, she thought, she was just here to see it happen.

Nilesy walked up to Xephos's door, paused a moment with his head to one side, and then kicked it open.

The _bang_ was shattering in the midnight quiet. Nilesy stormed in, wreathed in thunder, and Nano and Panda scurried after.

Xephos leapt up from his desk, knocking his chair over, his glasses slipping half off his face. He scrambled back, tripped over his chair, almost fell. He stared at them in horror, an uncommon fear on his face. His computer was on, showing some kind of blueprint or diagnostic.

Nilesy just stood there, on the other side of his desk, watching him. At a loss for what to do, Nano moved to the right, getting out of the doorway—Panda went left, so that the two of them were flanking Nilesy, backing him up. The door swung closed behind them with a _click._

Xephos looked around at them, flattened against the wall and breathing quickly. Then he straightened up and adjusted his shirt, pushed his glasses up on his nose, fixed his tie. He composed his face, his eyes going diamond hard.

"Well?" he demanded. "You must have something to _say._ I'm sure it must be quite impressive, if it's worth not killing me instantly. Go on, then, let's have it."

Nilesy stared at Xephos for a long moment, then slowly reached up and took hold of his mask.

"Niles—" Panda began, alarmed.

Nilesy pulled the mask off. Underneath, his face was young, almost boyish, and etched with pain. Xephos's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, and all the blood drained from his face.

"Hallo, Dad," Nilesy said quietly.

 _"Liam?"_ Xephos whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.

The corner of Nilesy's mouth twitched. "Not really," he said. "Not anymore."

"You're—you—" Xephos stammered. "Why are you _Scottish?"_

Nilesy's face went blank. His fists clenched, slowly.

"Fifteen _years,"_ he said, his voice a low growl. "Fifteen fucking _years_ I've been dead, and the first fucking thing you ask me is why I'm fucking _Scottish?"_

"It's a legitimate question!" Xephos said. "Good _God,_ Liam, where in the hell have you _been?_ What _happened_ to you?"

"I died," he answered simply.

"But you're _here,"_ Xephos said. He laughed breathlessly, opening his arms and taking a step towards Nilesy.

"Stay where you are," Nilesy snapped.

"God, this is—this is incredible," Xephos breathed. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "You're here, you're really here—"

 _"Shut up!"_ Nilesy snarled. There was a tortuous groan from the wall and suddenly a pipe burst through it, spraying water all over the office. The computer shorted out with a fizzle and a burst of sparks. Xephos shrieked and plastered himself against the wall.

"Now—now Liam," he began.

"Liam's dead," Nilesy retorted. "Liam's been dead for fifteen fucking years, and you killed him. Your own son, and you _murdered_ him."

"It was an _accident!"_ Xephos cried, horrified.

 _"Accident?_ No, no, there was no _accident._ Darling Liam, he _jumped."_

Xephos's face went slack. _"What?"_ he croaked.

"Oh, yes," said Nilesy. "What else was he to do? He'd rather have died than ride that rusty little ferry all the way back to England to be tortured some more. So he fucking _did._ He jumped off the fucking side and swam until he fucking _drowned."_

"No," Xephos said. "No, that's not—why would you—"

"Why would _Liam,"_ Nilesy corrected, a razor edge to his words. "But I know why. His dear old dad thought he was broken. His dear old dad thought he was a _monster._ His own father was going to cut out bits of his brain because he was a _freak."_

"That's not true," Xephos whispered. "We—we were going to—to _fix_ you. . . . It isn't _true,_ Liam."

"Isn't it? Let's be honest, Xephos, how long did it take you to get back to your lovely robots after your son _killed himself?_ It wasn't long, was it. You were _glad_ to have him out of the way."

"No!" Xephos protested. "I _loved_ you! We looked for you for _days!"_

 _"Days?"_ Nilesy burst out, tears spilling down his cheeks. Another pipe tore through the opposite wall. Water was pooling on the floor, soaking through Nano's shoes. "Only _days,_ was it? Is that all I was _worth_ to you? _Days?"_

"You were dead!" he retorted. "You were _dead and gone,_ and I _let go!_ Christ's _sake,_ Liam, I couldn't throw my life away over something I couldn't change!"

_"You could have mourned!"_

Xephos paused, his breath coming short and heavy, staring at Nilesy. His hair was plastered to his head by the water, his clothes soaked through.

"I did," he said. "God, I did. Every waking moment ever since."

"Liar," Nilesy accused, his face contorted with pain. "You _hated_ me. You locked me away!"

"You were _dangerous!"_

"I was _eight years old!"_ Nilesy screamed. With a terrible squeal of tearing metal, yet another pipe crashed down through the ceiling and started spewing water all over the office.

Xephos pressed himself against the wall, his eyes darting. Slowly, he raised his hands.

"All right," he said, having to raise his voice over the gushing of the water. "All right, Liam. We'll . . . we'll talk about this, we'll work through it."

"No," said Nilesy. "No, we won't. Because I sat at the bottom of the goddamn sea for three days, and I _walked_ back, and when I washed up again I found people who _loved_ me. Lovely couple by the name of MacKay."

"W-well, I—that's good—"

"And you killed them," Nilesy said. "I'm sure you don't remember. Good, law-abiding citizens they were, both of them in the Registry. And you rounded them up and _slaughtered_ them like animals."

"No," Xephos said. "No, I never—"

"And _then,"_ Nilesy went on, relentless. "I found a little band of misfits up in Wick. Lived in an abandoned house. It was all Powered country up there, nice and quiet where no one would disturb us. And you and your fucking _machines_ carpet-bombed them, and I watched them _burn."_

"That wasn't _me,"_ he protested weakly.

Nilesy grinned and spread his hands. "They died," he said simply. "And so did old Ravs in Inverness, who took me in off the street. He died, too. When you published your damn Registry and everyone in his bar dragged him out back and beat him to death. My family, my friends, _everyone_ I have _ever_ loved, you've murdered."

"Liam, please," Xephos whispered, trembling.

Nilesy laughed, though he was still crying.

"It's all right!" he said brightly. "No, really, it's all right. People die, Dad. That's what I've learned from all this. All the time, every day, people die. And today, it's going to be you."

"No!" Xephos cried, trying to climb up the wall behind him. "Liam, please, no, you can't, you _can't—"_

"Liam's dead," Nilesy said gently. He raised a hand towards Xephos.

"Nano!" Xephos squealed, frantically looking for an escape. "Nano, stop him! He'll kill me, you've got to stop him!"

Nano swallowed and set her jaw.

"Yes to the first," she said. "And no to the second."

Xephos's darting eyes got stuck on Nilesy, standing implacably in a flood of his own making.

"Please," Xephos begged. "Please. Son. My _son,_ please, don't do this."

"I am not," Nilesy said, "nor was I _ever,_ your fucking _son."_

He gestured sharply. Xephos let out a strangled cry, and his eyes went wide with pure terror, and the water poured in from all sides.

And then Xephos ripped apart, shredded into a hundred ratty pieces.

Nano screamed as blood sprayed across the room, washed away instantly by the gushing water, staining the flood at their feet red. The pieces of Xephos swirled in the eddies that had cropped up in the corners of his office. Nano put her hands over her mouth to keep from vomiting.

Nilesy lowered his hand, slowly. He was trembling, and his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth. Tears continued to flow down his cheeks, and he was struggling to breathe, his face twisted with pain.

"Christ, Nilesy," Panda whispered.

Nilesy bowed his head, his breath hitching, and with trembling hands he raised the mask back to his face. He took a deep, slow breath, and straightened up.

"Security'll be on the way," he said quietly. "We've got to go."

He turned and heaved the door open, releasing a flood of water into the hallway, and strode out without so much as looking over his shoulder.

Nano stared at Panda, and Panda stared back at her. He swallowed.

"Did you—?" Nano began, making an abortive gesture towards Xephos's remains.

"No," said Panda. "But he's right. We've got to go."

Nano glanced at the wreckage of the room, and the wreckage of Xephos, and shuddered.

"God," she whispered, and hurried out into the corridor.

They walked in silence towards the elevator, Nilesy in the lead. Nano felt something warm touch her hand, and recoiled sharply. Panda jerked his hand back, too, looking over at her with tears in his eyes. His skin was waxy, his face taut. Gingerly, Nano offered him her hand. He took it, clutching with bruising strength. She clutched right back.

From the other end of the corridor, there came a rhythmic clanging, growing nearer and nearer, louder and louder. Nano pulled closer to Panda, moving a little in front of him. Nilesy stopped, tipping his head to one side.

"What, um—" Panda began, as he and Nano halted as well.

The _other_ Lalna tore around the corner, moving at a dead sprint, its eyes glowing red as hellfire.

 _"Shit!"_ Panda cried. He yanked on Nano's arm, hard, throwing her against the wall. There was a blur of motion and Nilesy was hauled aside as well, putting up no resistance, showing no inclination to move of his own accord. Panda sank into a fighting stance between him and the charging robot, blades gleaming in his hands. Nano drew a breath to say something—anything—before it all went to hell and they all died, right here in this hallway with so many unanswered questions—

And Lalnable ran straight past them, making a beeline for Xephos's office.

Nano watched, mouth agape. Her brain kicked into gear a second later, and she started shoving Nilesy towards the stairs.

"Go," she said. "Come on, we've got to go, we've got to go _right now_ before they figure it out—"

Panda vanished in a blur, zipping off down the hall after Lalnable.

 _"Panda—!"_ Nano called, but he was gone. She wasted a single precious second deciding not to go after him. She grabbed Nilesy by the wrist and started hauling him towards the stairs as fast as she could. He trailed along like a balloon, unresisting, hollow.

"Come _on,_ you stupid fucking load—" she hissed, teeth clenched. She got him into the stairwell, started dragging him up towards the ground floor. When they got to the second landing, the door slammed open below them. Nano broke into a full sprint, and Nilesy promptly tripped on the stairs and fell flat. She wasted another precious second pulling him back to his feet.

Panda zipped up the stairs and hauled Nilesy up, barely pausing before hurrying onward, although he was now slowed by virtue of tugging Nilesy with him.

"I stuck a knife in the back of its neck," he panted. "It's only slowed it down. Come on, come _on!"_

They ran up the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them, gasping and wheezing. Nano's legs and lungs were burning, her stomach sick. She heard the door open again, heard clanging footsteps come ringing up the stairs like the tolling of a bell, slowed but not slow enough, and Nilesy was still lagging behind, glass-eyed and fucking _useless,_ and the thing was getting closer and closer with every step.

They burst forth into the lobby, dashing for the main doors. Nano's whole back was a mass of twisted tension, painful, and she could barely run at all because her legs had turned to water. Panda was pulling ahead, making for the door with Nilesy in tow, and Nano heard the door open behind them—

Panda dropped Nilesy and zipped off, blurring, making a long loop around the open lobby. A patch of wall exploded, and then another, and then a third. Nano kept running for the door, trying to get Nilesy to hurry up. She glanced back over her shoulder.

Lalnable was standing in the doorway, sparks spitting erratically from their neck. They took a jerky step into the room, eyes flickering that hellfire red, the MALaR in their left wrist glowing to match. The blur of Panda slammed into them, nearly knocking them off their feet. They spun where they stood, and then the other hand came up, and a terrible whine, and their head was twitching as they tracked Panda's movements.

 _Pop!_ went the laser rifle, and there was an explosion as part of the wall was vaporized, spitting shrapnel into the room, and suddenly Panda was tumbling along the floor, and then Panda was _screaming,_ clutching at his face and writhing in pain.

Nilesy suddenly reanimated, breaking free of Nano's grasp with a desperate cry, and he sprinted to Panda's side, dropping to his knees with an audible _crack,_ and there was blood on the floor, and Lalnable was lining up another shot at the back of Nilesy's head, their arm jerking erratically as they adjusted and readjusted, head twitching, eyes flickering, and Panda now whimpering and gasping.

 _"I can't see,"_ he choked out, _"I can't see—Niles—I can't see—"_

And there was a piercing whine as the MALaR primed, the cherry glow rising in red fury.

Nano's feet started running without her, single-minded, terrible in their conviction. Her eyes found themselves staring right into the blister-hot light of the MALaR, and Lalnable's flickering red eyes glowing like coals between the spread titanium fingers.

Death, she thought, was a silver thing.

A second passed, and then two, and then three and four.

Slowly, the whine descended, the red-hot glow faded and then went dark. Lalnable's hand jerked down until it was pointing at Nano's shins. Their head twitched, sparks spitting from the back of their neck, where the hilt of a knife was sticking out between two plates.

" ~~I~~ . . . ~~know~~ . . . ~~you~~ ," they said, their voice unnaturally deep and full of static.

Nano's whole world fell out from under her. Her jaw dropped, her knees turned to jelly, her bones filled up with air. She stared at Lalnable, cotton in her mouth and in her ears and in her head. Behind her, Panda was crying, whimpering and sucking in sharp breaths.

"Y-you . . . you what?" she managed, her voice like sandpaper in her throat.

"I . . . ~~know~~ . . . you," Lalnable repeated.

"I—yes," said Nano, her heart leaping. "Yes! Yes, you do, you _do_ know me!"

 _"Can't see,"_ Panda whimpered behind her. _"Niles, please, I can't—help me—Nilesy, please—"_

Lalnable's head twitched, and their other hand started coming up to point over her shoulder at Nilesy and Panda, defenseless on the floor.

"You know me!" Nano blurted, stepping forward to attract Lalnable's attention. "You know me, Lalnable! So—so tell me! Tell me about _me!_ Tell me how you know me!"

They paused, their arm remaining partially raised. Their head twitched again, and another fountain of sparks spat from the back of their neck as their eyes flickered.

"You ~~are~~ . . . Dr. Na-na- ~~nano~~ Soundszs," said Lalnable. "I ~~live~~ . . . with . . . yyyyy _ouu_ u."

"Yes, that's right, that's right!" Nano said, her head spinning. She took another slow step forward. "Go on, keep going, tell me what else you know."

But Lalnable's head had turned, looking now at Nilesy and Panda. Their arm started coming up again.

"Lethal ~~force~~ haszs been auth-auth-auth- ~~authorized~~ ," they said.

"Lalnable!" Nano said sharply, taking another step forward. "Look at me! It's Nano, it's Dr. Sounds, you _know_ me, talk to me! Come on, what do you know? What do you know about us?"

" ~~Not~~ . . . uszs," said Lalnable, turning their head back to her. Their arm was half-raised now, the MALaR starting to glow. "Not . . . _me."_

Nano swallowed. She edged forward, hands outstretched.

"No," she said gently. "Not you. Lalna. Your . . . your twin. I knew them. I worked with them for—for a long time. I . . . loved them. I _love_ them, even though they're . . . they're dead now. Did you know them, Lalnable?"

They stood there twitching for a moment.

"N _nnn_ no," they said, and bent their head. Their eyes went dark, and their whole form seized up, and sparks spat from the back of their neck. They jerked their head back up, and their eyes snapped back on. Their arm shot up another couple of degrees before shuddering to a halt again.

"I'm sorry," Nano said softly. "I could—"

"He ~~died~~ ," Lalnable said, and their voice was like a saw. "Killed. _Killed._ By Pow-pow-powered mi _iii_ screants. Now ~~Xephos~~ —now Xeph _hhh_ hos—lethal ~~force~~ has been-been-been autho _ooo_ rized."

Nano hurried forward two more steps. Lalnable's other arm tried to rise to point at her, but it could only go in short jerks, and she got to it before it could raise above her hip, put her hands on its wrist and held it down, not by strength but by mere presence.

"I know," she said. "I know. It hurts, it must hurt so much, and I'm so sorry."

 _"Please,"_ Panda gasped. _"Somebody, please. . . ."_

Lalnable stood still for a moment. They started to bend their head again, then snapped it back up. Their eyes flickered and more sparks spurted out around the knife.

" ~~Yes~~ ," they said. "It hu _uuu_ rtszs."

"I want to help," Nano said softly, moving closer still. She laid her palm on their whirring chest, the metal hot against her skin. "Will you let me help you, Lalnable? You know me. Please, let me help you. Let me help you stop hurting."

Lalnable did not move, did not speak. Their head twitched again. Carefully, Nano reached up, and up, standing on her tiptoes, her heart hammering at her ribs, a roaring in her ears.

She wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the knife. Lalnable's arm twitched up another three degrees, now aimed between Nilesy's shoulders. Nano pressed her cheek to Lalnable's sternum, her whole body leaned up against theirs.

"Shh, shh," she said hurriedly. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay, Lalnable. It's okay."

They remained, waiting.

Nano took a deep breath, and then yanked the knife out.

Lalnable went stiff, and the whirring of their systems spun down. With a snarl, Nano shoved them over, and they fell to the ground with a resounding _clang,_ frozen in place, their eyes dark. She fell upon them, crouching on their chest, wrapping her hands around their throat and pouring Power into her palms. Tears flooded down her face, dripped off her chin and over her lips, her bared teeth. Their face stared up at her, _Lalna's_ face, placid and unmarred, the button nose, the cupid's bow lips, the goggle eyes dark in death—

 _"Fuck,"_ she hissed, while acid slime sizzled at Lalnable's neck, eating through the metal and the joints and then the wires and the endoskeleton and the hydraulics. _"Fuck, fuck, fuck. . . ."_

And there was a sudden give, a sudden loss, and she cracked her fingertips on the concrete floor, and Lalnable's head rolled away, and she folded over sobbing.

Slowly, she became aware of the silence in the room.

She took a shuddering breath and pulled herself together, dragged herself away from the corpse and to Panda's side.

There was blood all over his face and his hands, smeared on the floor. He was unconscious, or nearly there. Nilesy was just kneeling at his side, bloodied palms upturned on his knees, his face blank. Nano crawled to Panda's other side and touched his shoulder. He flinched, and his breath came shorter.

"We've got to get out of here," Nano said, looking up at Nilesy.

He just stared down at Panda, expressionless, vacant, tears rolling out from under his mask and dripping off his chin. Nano snapped her fingers in front of his face. He didn't so much as blink.

"Oy!" she barked, her voice shaking. "Wake the fuck up!"

Still, there was no response. In the distance, Nano heard someone yell, and then someone yell back, and then heavy footfalls, growing nearer. She slapped Nilesy as hard as she could.

He cried out and shrank back, throwing up his hands over his face, _cowering_ from her. Just as he started to scurry back across the floor, she caught him by the hands, cursing herself for an idiot.

"I'm sorry!" she said. "I'm sorry, Nilesy, I'm sorry. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help, all right? All _right?"_

He stopped trying to get away, and instead sat staring at the floor, breathing hard. Between the two of them, Panda took a shuddering breath and moaned it out again.

"Nilesy, look at me," Nano said. He started to turn his head further away and she shook his hands. _"Look_ at me!"

There were more yelling voices now, more footfalls. Lights were coming on nearby, illuminating patches of the branching corridors. Hydraulic fluid was pooling under Lalnable's head and shoulders, blue and reeking of oil. A spark spat from the melted ruins of their neck and skittered across the puddle. Their hand twitched.

Nilesy swallowed, struggling to catch his breath. There were still tears rolling down his face, crawling out from under the mask. Eyes flicking up and down, he finally managed to look at Nano.

_Button nose, cupid's bow lips, the same jaw, the same chin—_

She squeezed his hands.

"Panda— _your_ Panda—is hurt," she said urgently. _"Badly_ hurt. There are people coming to kill us. That fucking robot could get back up any second. We are _fucked,_ okay? So I need you— _Panda_ needs you—to be _Nilesy_ right now, do you understand? So _put_ the fucking mask on, and _get the fuck to work."_

Nilesy stared at her for a moment, eyes wide, lip trembling. Suddenly, a change came over him—he hardened, his eyes turning to gemstones, his face to marble, and for a moment he looked so much like Xephos that it made Nano's blood run cold. He got to his feet, pulling Panda up with him. Nano ducked under Panda's arm, and Nilesy followed suit, helping her to drag him to the door. Panda's feet kicked weakly, trying to hold him up, but it was clear that there was no strength in him.

Together, the three of them hobbled to the door, and across the patterned light and shadow of the car park, and back into Zylus's car. YogLabs was lighting up, each window like a honeycomb filled with sudden fire. Nano started the car and forced herself to drive slowly, carefully, while Nilesy cradled Panda in the back seat, saying nothing.

They drove into the night with YogLabs swarming like a kicked anthill behind them. Nano watched it shrink in the rearview mirror until they turned out into the city proper, the silver weight of death hung like an amulet around her neck.

 


	49. Chapter 48

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Rythian was woken suddenly in the night by someone opening the door. He tried to sit up, but the lingering pain in his stomach made it a slow process. In the light spilling into the room, he just managed to see Nilesy duck into the bathroom before the door swung shut again.

From the main room, he could hear voices, clear as crystal through the paper-thin walls.

 _"Jeshush fucking Chrisht, what happened?"_ Zylus said, his voice heavy with horror.

 _"The other robot,"_ said Nano. _"Is he okay? Can you tell?"_

_"Fuck, I don't fucking know. Shtay with him, I'm going to shee if I can get hold of Lomadia."_

_"You haven't called her already?"_

_"No, becaushe she would have gone after you, and that'sh not a rishk I wash willing to take."_

_"That's not your decision,"_ Nano snapped, an edge to her voice.

 _"Too late, already made it,"_ said Zylus. _"Give me two minutesh—fuck, shit—"_

_"What?"_

_"Nothing, it'sh—fucking hell—it'sh nothing, I'm fine, it'sh jusht fucking Nileshy. Shee if you can get him—get him to drink shome water or shomething, find shomething to clean him up with—"_

Rythian looked over at the closed bathroom door. He could hear movement from the main room, footsteps and creaking floorboards, running water. Nano started murmuring, too quietly for him to pick out the words. He managed to get upright in bed and swung his feet out, but stayed where he was, wary of causing trouble.

 _"Okay, Lom'sh on the way,"_ Zylus said, out in the main room. His voice was strained, haggard. There was a squeal as the springs of the couch were compressed. _"How ish he?"_

 _"You tell me,"_ said Nano.

 _"_ _ I _ _can't tell, I can't hear fucking_ _ anything _ _over the shit coming—coming out of Nileshy'sh head. Hang on, I'm going to go . . . find hish meter, the lasht thing he needsh ish—fucking Chrisht—ish hish blood sugar going nutsh."_

_"Wait, wait, what kind of shit is coming out of Nilesy's head?"_

_"You_ _don't_ _want to know,"_ said Zylus. _"Panda? Hey, where'sh your meter? Do you remember?"_

There was a beat of silence.

 _"In your room? Can you tell—tell me where?"_ said Zylus.

Another short silence.

 _"Okay, that'sh fine, I'll find it. Be—god_ _ dammit _ _—be right back."_

The couch springs creaked again. Nano muttered something under her breath, too low for Rythian to make it out.

From the bathroom, there was a _thunk._ Rythian stared at the door, dread curling around his stomach, fatigue heavy in his limbs.

Panda mumbled something, his voice thin and indistinct through the walls.

 _"Hey, okay, hey!"_ Nano said, her voice soothing. _"Hey, you're okay, you're okay. We're home, it's going to be okay."_

 _"I can't—I can't see,"_ Panda said. _"Why can't—it hurts, it_ _hurts,_ _what's—what's—"_

_"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's going to be okay, I know it hurts, I know, I'm sorry. Lomadia's on the way. Zylus is finding your—your meter, I think. We're going to get you taken care of, it's going to be okay."_

_"My eye—what's wrong with my eye—I can't see, I can't—I can't—what's wrong with my_ _ eye _ _—"_

_"Hey, hey! Easy, take it easy, we don't know how bad it is yet. You'll be okay, Panda."_

_"No—let_ _ go _ _of me—"_

There was the sound of hurried footsteps.

 _"Panda, hey, it'sh me,"_ said Zylus, his voice low and intense and distinctly less strained. _"I'm here, we're going to take care of you. I'm going to check your blood sugar, okay? To make sure thish doeshn't get any worshe."_

_"Where's—Zy, where's Nilesy? Where's Nilesy? Is he—is he—"_

_"He'sh here,"_ said Zylus. _"He'sh not hurt. Shomebody should be with him, though. To make sure he shtaysh that way. I'm sure Rythian can handle it."_

Rythian started, his spine going stiff. Zylus must have known he was listening. He looked at the bathroom door again. All was quiet from within.

The others continued talking in the main room, but Rythian had tuned them out. Slowly, gingerly, he got to his feet, his abdomen twinging at every movement. He shuffled over to the bathroom door, hesitated, then knocked.

"Nilesy?" he called.

There was no response. Rythian knocked again.

"Nilesy, are you . . . all right?"

Still, only silence. Something curled cold tendrils around Rythian's lungs and throat, chilling him to the bone. He steeled himself and put a hand on the doorknob.

"I'm—I'm coming in," he said. "So—that's happening."

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The bathroom was as it had ever been—neat, barren, old and peeling. There was water on the floor. Nilesy's mask was next to the tub, face-down and hollow.

Nilesy was lying on his back in the tub, fully clothed, only his knees sticking out above the water. His hair floated like black spider silk around his face. He wasn't moving. His eyes were open, staring and glazed. His skin was pale as porcelain, and just as lifeless.

Rythian's heart dropped like a stone, the world fell out from under his feet. He stood there gaping, his head full of mist and static.

Dead. Nilesy was dead. Drowned ignominiously in his own bathtub, all alone, quietly, right under Rythian's nose. No fanfare, no violence, just—dead. Just gone.

Slowly, the empty spaces in Rythian's bones began to fill with milky grief, with dread and horror. He'd have to tell the others. Somehow he'd have to find the words to say. Dead. Gone.

A pair of tears rolled down Rythian's cheeks, dragging up a huge and dripping ruin from within him like fishing line caught on a buried tangle of branches. His vision blurred, his throat squeezed itself shut as though the air was too heavy to breathe. His chest caved in, his dynamo sputtered and sparked, his veins filled with ice and froze him numb.

Gone, with neither a bang nor a whimper, while Rythian had sat idly by in the very next room doing _nothing._ And so much left unsaid, and so much left undone, and so much lost in a fragile instant—

Nilesy's dead, staring eyes flicked to him.

Rythian screamed and leapt back, cannoning into the bathroom door, pain lancing through his abdomen at the sudden movement. A wet, clumsy hand reached up and clutched at the rim of the tub. A few seconds later, Nilesy hauled himself upright, water pouring off of him. He slouched over his knees, swaying slightly.

After a moment, his whole torso hitched, then heaved, and then he coughed out a huge gout of water, and then another. His breaths, when he took them, were wheezes and gurgles, saturated with pain. He dragged himself out of the tub, still coughing up water, and set his back against the wall, knees to his chest. As his breath started coming easier, he rested his face between his legs, arms wrapped around his shins, and started shivering violently.

Rythian stood there and stared while his heart rate slowed, while the ringing faded from his ears and the prickling wash of adrenaline drained from his limbs. Eventually, he found the presence of mind to take the ratty towel down from the hook on the door and toss it to Nilesy—he didn't trust himself to touch him, not with so much water around. The towel landed on Nilesy's shoulder, and with shaking hands, he wrapped it around himself.

"Are you . . . all right?" Rythian asked, his voice thin.

Nilesy laughed a mad little laugh and tightened his hands on his own arms. He didn't answer.

"Oh," said Rythian. "Stupid . . . stupid question. I guess."

After a moment, Rythian slid to the floor, keeping his back against the door. Nilesy continued to sit there and shiver, saying nothing, occasionally coughing up another mouthful of water. A thousand half-formed thoughts swirled through Rythian's head, none of them worthy of being spoken. Minutes passed, wordless, cold, aching.

"I thought," Nilesy said, hoarse, "it'd be different."

Rythian raised his head, but said nothing. Nilesy drew a shuddering breath and laughed it out again.

"I thought—I thought it'd feel different. A world without him in it. I thought _I'd_ feel different. But—it doesn't. I don't. He's dead and _nothing's_ changed."

"Xephos?" said Rythian.

 _"Xephos,"_ Nilesy spat, like the name was a curse. "Everyone's still dead. Everything still hurts. It's—ahah—it's done _nothing._ Nothing's changed. Not even me. Hah. Not even fucking _me._ I'm still—fucking—I'm still his fucking son. I'm—still—his—"

Rythian gaped at Nilesy, who was digging his fingernails into the back of his neck, shivering so hard it was a wonder he didn't come apart like a sand castle in the waves, banging his forehead on his knees and weeping. Without thinking, Rythian reached out to him. Nilesy jerked away, looking at Rythian for the first time since coming out of the water.

 _"Don't,"_ he snarled, his eyes red, his face blotchy.

Rythian curled his hands against his chest, smarting and useless.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I want . . . to help. In—in any way I—"

 _"Help,"_ said Nilesy, his lip curling. "You can't _help._ There isn't any _help._ I'm a monster, I'm _every_ bit the monster _he_ was. I'm _just fucking like him._ D'you know—d'you know why nothing's changed? Because he's—ahahah—he's not really dead. Not really. Not while _I'm_ alive. I knew—I knew it'd be like this. I always knew."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, for their implication to pierce the thick fog of concern in Rythian's brain. When they did, they made his heart twist like a wrung dishrag.

"No," he said. "Nilesy, _no."_

"I should never have come back," Nilesy said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Back—back from where?"

Nilesy smiled, blinking another pair of tears from his eyes.

"The dead," he said. "It's all right. I always sort of knew. It's all right, honestly."

"Stop it," said Rythian. "Stop talking like that, you're not—"

"I want to be _done!"_ Nilesy cried, lurching towards Rythian. Rythian jerked back against the door and bruised his shoulders, but Nilesy did not come any closer, just stayed there on his hands and knees, looking up at Rythian in desperation. "I want it to be over, I want it to _stop,_ I don't want to do this anymore, I don't want to _be_ this anymore—"

"Nilesy, please," said Rythian. "Just—just calm down. Okay? Please."

 _"Help me,"_ Nilesy said, his voice cracking. "Rythian, please, _help_ me, I can't—I've tried and I can't—"

"Help—help you how? I want—I want to help, but . . . but what are you . . . what are you asking me?"

Slowly, Nilesy reached out his left hand. Tears dripped off his chin, water from the tub ran down his neck and over his collarbones, plastered his hair to his head and his shirt to his shoulders.

"I want to go _home,"_ he whispered.

Rythian stared at him, the air thick as water in his lungs, his ears ringing, his blood turned to molasses. Nilesy stared right back, pain etched into every feature, tremors still wracking his body, and he looked so frail, so small, so _young,_ that the sight of him drove knives through Rythian's heart.

Slowly, he reached out and took Nilesy's hand.

In _both_ of his own.

Nilesy let out a sharp breath, hanging his head. Rythian pulled him in close and embraced him, squeezing him hard. Water soaked through his shirt and touched cold against his skin, and Nilesy's breath was hot on his neck, and he could feel his heartbeat tapping against his chest.

"I can't," said Rythian, and the words drove tears from his eyes. "I won't."

Nilesy sighed and put a hand on Rythian's chest. He sat back, and Rythian kept his hands on his shoulders. Nilesy kept his head bowed.

"I understand," he said. He glanced up at Rythian and his mouth twitched into something like a smile. "It's all right."

"It's . . . it's going to be okay," Rythian said, his voice thin and shaking.

Nilesy smiled again, leaned in and kissed him ever so softly.

"I know," said Nilesy. "I'm sorry, Rythian. But thank you."

Rythian clutched Nilesy's shoulders, tightening his hands and gripping as hard as he could.

"Don't," he said. "Don't even _think_ about it."

Nilesy smiled again, then leaned in and rested his head on Rythian's shoulder, forehead pressed to his neck.

"Bit late for that," he said. "But I can't, anyway. Too much of a coward. You're safe, not to worry."

Rythian embraced him, holding him close and kissing his sopping wet hair.

"I love you," he mumbled.

"Oh, Rythian," Nilesy sighed.

"What?" said Rythian. "I _do."_

"I know," said Nilesy. "I just . . . hah. Wish you didn't."

They sat in silence for a time.

"You don't . . . love me," said Rythian. "Do you."

Nilesy scoffed. "Of course I do," he said. "Why in the hell wouldn't I?"

"Oh," said Rythian. "Just . . . you didn't . . . say it back. When I said it."

"Oh, Rythian," Nilesy said again, shaking his head.

* * *

 

Eventually, Nilesy stopped shivering, and Rythian helped him out into his bedroom and helped him get changed into dry clothes. He lingered there for a time before asking Rythian to go get his mask from the bathroom. Rythian retrieved it, and Nilesy put it on. He stood for a moment, then took it back off. He stared down at it, looking into it like it was someone else's face, then tossed it aside with a derisive scoff.

"Fucking useless," he muttered to himself. He moved to the door and stopped again.

Rythian came up next to him and took his arm.

"I'm here," he said.

Nilesy looked up at him and managed something like a smile.

"Thank you," he said. He opened the door, and the two of them went out into the main room.

Panda was sitting on the couch, a glass of water in his hands. Zylus was sitting next to him, one arm around his shoulders. Lomadia was kneeling at his feet, wiping blood from his face with a washcloth, while Nano held his hand and murmured consolations to him.

His left eye was a ruined mess, bloodied, caved in, full of shrapnel. Rythian could tell immediately that it was unsalvageable. More shrapnel peppered his face, and blood had run into his other eye from a cut on his forehead, but that one at least was open and looking around.

Nilesy went stiff next to Rythian, sucking in a sharp breath. Rythian looked over at him in time to see a pair of tears slip from his eyes.

Panda looked up, too, and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Hiya, Niles," he said, his voice hoarse.

Nilesy drifted away from Rythian, towards Panda, and Rythian only just managed to get both hands off him at the same time, narrowly avoiding electrocuting him. Nilesy knelt down at Panda's feet, next to Lomadia, and stared up at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Panda, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, this's all my fault—"

"It's not," said Panda. Lomadia started cleaning the blood off his other eye, and he winced. _"Ow._ Honestly. It's not anybody's fault."

"I shouldn't—I shouldn't have let you come—" Nilesy said, his voice shaking and choked.

"You'd be dead," said Panda.

"Ahahah. Yes. I would," said Nilesy.

"This wouldn't've happened if I'd been there," Lomadia said.

 _"Lom,"_ Nano said, affronted.

Lomadia shrugged her wings. "It wouldn't. I wouldn't've let him get hurt."

Nilesy bowed his head. Rythian could see him shaking, even from across the room.

"If you . . . if you want to leave," he said quietly. "Now that you know . . . who I am. I'll understand."

"If— _what?"_ said Panda. Lomadia set aside her washcloth and picked a pair of tweezers out of her breast pocket. She started to raise them to Panda's eye, then stopped, frowning. She folded her arms and looked at Nilesy.

He shrugged. "I won't blame you," he said. "I figured you would. It's why I didn't want anyone to come with me. But—ahah, cat's out of the bag now, I suppose. So if you'd like to go, I understand."

"Nilesy," Panda said quietly, pained. "I'm not _leaving_ you just because Xephos was your dad. I don't give a fuck about that, you're still _you,_ you haven't changed a bit."

Rythian saw him tighten, his whole being flinch from the pain of that statement. Rythian curled his arms around his waist and shifted his weight. A couple of errant sparks skittered across the bottom of his lungs, but he stayed where he was.

"If . . . that's what you want," said Nilesy. He glanced up briefly. "Lom?"

"What?"

"Are you . . . leaving? Now that you know?"

She shrugged her wings again. "Not yet," she said.

Nilesy winced again, drawing into himself. "I . . . of course," he said. "I understand."

"You don't," said Lomadia. "I don't care about who your mum and dad were. They don't matter. You've got to stop _leaving_ me. Stop leaving me behind, or one day I'm not going to come back."

Nilesy's head snapped up, and he gaped at her. She glared at him, eyes narrowed, mouth pulled into a frown.

"Lom, I—I was just . . . I was trying to keep you safe," he stammered.

"I'm very good at being all right," she said. "And you're not. I want to be there to help. Panda wouldn't be hurt if I'd been there and you know it. So stop _leaving_ me."

He stared at her for a moment.

"Yes, dear," he said quietly.

She nodded, and touched her forehead to his.

"Good," she said.

Nilesy stayed still for a moment, then said, "Zylus?"

"What?"

"Are _you_ leaving?"

Zylus scoffed, cracking a grin and shaking his head. "Nileshy," he said. "I've _alwaysh_ known. From day fucking one. I'm not going to leave jusht becaushe you shaid it out loud."

Nilesy froze, just for a moment, then turned very slowly to look at Zylus.

"You _knew?"_ he said quietly. "And you never _said_ anything?"

"It washn't my shecret to tell."

"You never said anything to _me?"_ Nilesy said, his voice rising, cracking with emotion. His fists had clenched. Panda reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Lomadia took his arm. Nano shied away, eyes darting.

"You sheemed like you didn't want to talk about it," said Zylus.

"And you've just been sitting on that, this whole fucking time?" said Nilesy.

"Nilesy—" Panda said, concerned.

"I wash trying to be _courteoush,"_ said Zylus. "You never shaid anything about it either. What wash I _shupposhed_ to do? It'sh not the kind of thing you jusht bring up. Eshpecially not with _you."_

"Zylus, stop it," Nano snapped. "You're not helping."

"No, no, I want to hear this," said Nilesy, getting to his feet. Panda tried to pull him back down and Nilesy shrugged his hand off. Zylus stood up as well, glowering. Lomadia and Nano both put their hands on Panda, as though to protect him from an impending car crash.

"What'sh there to hear?" Zylus asked. "Why are you even upshet about thish? I did what you wanted. I never sho much ash _mentioned_ it. I never sho much ash _hinted._ What elshe do you want?"

"All that shit you talked about getting _help,"_ Nilesy said, seething. "And you _knew_ what the fuck was wrong with me. You _knew_ what he fucking put me through. I thought you just didn't _know."_

"I wash shtuck in your fucking head for fifteen fucking minutesh," Zylus retorted. "Did you honeshtly think there wash _anything_ I didn't know? I wash trying to be _gentle_ with you, in cashe you deshided you wanted to talk about it, but you never did, becaushe you're a fucking _idiot."_

"Oh, is that how you're going to paint it? Poor you, just trying to do what's fucking _best,_ was that it?"

"You want to know why I didn't bring it up, Nileshy? Becaushe I washn't sure you weren't going to fucking _kill_ me for knowing!"

Nilesy stiffened, his jaw clenching. He glared at Zylus for a good three seconds before turning away, dropping his gaze. He said nothing.

"Sho maybe I wash right about that one," Zylus went on, his voice laced with venom.

"Zylus, _stop it,"_ Nano said. "That's _enough."_

"No," said Zylus. "It'sh not. He doesh thish every time, and I'm done with it. What'sh nexsht, Nileshy? Now that you've finally murdered Xephosh. Who'sh nexsht on the lisht? Or ish it going to be back to the sherial killing?"

"Stop," Nilesy said quietly.

 _"No,"_ said Zylus. "Thish time you're going to fucking anshwer me. You got what you wanted, and I want to know if that'sh where it shtopsh. Becaushe I think we both know it'sh not."

"Zylus, stop it," Lomadia said, her wings fluffing up, her hands tightening on Panda's arm and leg.

"Go pick the fucking shrapnel out of Panda'sh fashe," Zylus snapped at her. He turned right back to Nilesy. "What'sh it going to be, Nileshy? _What'sh nexsht?"_

Nilesy stood for a moment, looking at the ground, his jaw working.

"I'm going to turn myself in," he said softly.

"Niles, no!" Panda cried, trying to get to his feet. Nano held him down. Lomadia made a disgusted noise. Rythian pressed himself back against the wall, reeling.

"You—you can't," he stammered.

"I've got to," said Nilesy. "Don't I."

"Fuck'sh _shake,"_ Zylus snarled, shoving him in the shoulder. "You're fucking _ushelessh,_ you know that? Everything you've fucking done, and the besht you can think of ish to fucking _kill_ yourshelf?"

"I didn't _say_ that," Nilesy retorted, raising his eyes to glare at Zylus.

"You know it'sh fucking shuishide, don't fucking pretend," Zylus said, his lip curling. "Wrong anshwer, try again."

"What the fuck is _with_ you?" Panda said, leaning into Nano's enfolding arms. Zylus gestured at him dismissively, never taking his eyes off of Nilesy.

"What d'you want from me, Zylus?" Nilesy demanded, another pair of tears slipping down his cheeks.

"I want to know what you're going to _do_ about thish," Zylus said. "I want to know what you're going to do to _fixsh_ it."

 _"Nothing!"_ Nilesy cried. The kitchen sink suddenly gushed to life, the handle shooting up as the water forced its way through. "There's fucking _nothing_ I can do to fix this, any of this! I'm a fucking _monster,_ that's all I've ever been, it's all I can ever be! Just let me _go,_ just let me be fucking _done!_ I can't _fix_ this, I can't make it better, I can't—I can't—"

"You honeshtly think that?" Zylus asked, eyes narrowed. "You _honeshtly_ think there'sh _nothing_ you can do to even _shtart_ to make up for what you've done? There'sh _no good_ you can put into thish world, at all? _Nothing?"_

Nilesy stared him down, crying still.

"Yes," he said.

Zylus's lip curled.

"Xephosh should have fixshed you when he had the chanshe," he said.

Rythian saw Nilesy shatter, saw the last whole pieces of him come crashing down in glassy ruin. Nilesy took a step back, face drawn with pain, mouth gaping. His fists unclenched at his sides, tears flowed freely down his face.

 _"Zylus!"_ Lomadia cried, horrified.

"What the _fuck?"_ Panda said, at the same time.

"How fucking _dare_ you," Rythian growled. A spark leapt through his lung and he barely felt it, red with anger.

"He knowsh it'sh true," Zylus said. He turned and walked out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

"It's not," Panda said hurriedly, reaching out to Nilesy. "It's really not, Niles, he doesn't mean it."

Without a word, Nilesy turned away. He tottered back to his room, brushing past Rythian as though he couldn't see him at all.

"Niles—" Panda said, trying to get to his feet.

"Let him go," said Nano. "Come on, we've still got to get all this stuff out of your eye, otherwise it'll get infected."

"But—Niles—Zylus—"

 _"I'll_ see to Zylus," Nano said darkly. "Lom, can you take care of him?"

She nodded, getting to her feet and helping Panda to stand as well.

"Don't hurt anybody," Lomadia said. She looked over at Rythian. "Make sure he doesn't hurt himself, okay? He'll try."

Rythian, reeling, managed to nod.

"Y-yes, okay. I can do that. Um. Sure."

"Thank you," said Lomadia. "Come on, Panda. We'll use your bathroom, the light's better in there."

She led him off, and Panda went, his steps unsteady. The door closed behind them, and Rythian looked over at Nano. She had gotten up and stormed into the kitchen, and was turning off the faucet with perhaps more force than was necessary.

"You seem . . . angry," said Rythian.

"Fucking _furious,"_ she said. "Rythian, listen, I—"

"It's fine," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said anyway.

Rythian shrugged. "Me, too. Are you going to unload on Zylus like you did on me?"

"Absolutely," she said.

He nodded. "Good. And . . . I forgive you."

Nano bit her lip, then sighed.

"I . . . forgive you, too."

Rythian nodded, then turned and slipped back into Nilesy's room, closing the door softly behind him.

 


	50. Chapter 49

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Zylus was leaning on the stair rail, staring out at the city. His face was composed, giving away nothing. Nano came up and leaned on the railing next to him, her jaw clenched, her spine taut.

"What the fuck was that?" she said.

Zylus took a moment to answer.

"Remember how I told you I could break him in ten wordsh?" he said. "Thoshe were them."

"And _why_ did you find it necessary to use them?"

He looked over at her, his expression grim.

"You heard the way he wash talking," said Zylus.

"Yeah, I did," said Nano. "He's practically _suicidal._ Why the fuck would you make that _worse?"_

Zylus turned his eyes back to the city. "Shome thingsh have to get more broken before they can get fixshed," he said quietly. "Like a broken bone that never got shet. You have to break it again before it can really heal."

"And you think _that's_ what you're doing? You think you're _fixing_ something?"

"He'sh not Lalna," Zylus said sharply, "no matter how much he remindsh you of them. Protecting him ishn't going to change what happened to them. He'sh shtill jusht Nileshy, and one day you'll remember that you hate him, and that shpashe will be jusht ash empty ash it ever wash. Maybe more."

Nano clenched her teeth and her fists and took a deep breath.

"You don't get to tell me what I feel," she said.

"It ishn't going to _help,_ Nano."

"It's helping right now."

Zylus rolled his eyes. "Fine, but don't shay I didn't tell you sho."

"You shouldn't gloat," said Nano. "I've heard it's unseemly."

"It'sh not gloating."

"It is, a bit."

He sighed, hanging his head. After a moment, he said, "Nileshy hash done terrible thingsh. He'sh killed fifteen people, at leasht. Directly. I don't know how many of the people in thoshe helicoptersh died, or in the flood. He thinksh he can't make up for that, and he'sh right. He can't un-kill them. But the sholution ishn't _dying."_

"Admittedly, if he's dead, he can't kill anyone else," Nano said.

"And what if he _livesh,_ and doeshn't kill anyone elshe?" Zylus demanded. "Ishn't that better? Ishn't it better if he doesh _shomething_ good with himshelf? If, inshtead of jusht dying, he can help protect people, from people like him?"

"I don't see what _any_ of this has to do with what you did to him."

"He'sh taking the eashy way out," said Zylus. "And if he'sh going to run from thish, we'd all be better off if he'd had hish Powersh taken from him when he wash a child. Fifteen people would shtill be alive. He wouldn't even be Nileshy. If he'sh not going to even _try_ to make up for what he'sh done, he'sh worshe than ushelessh. I jusht told him that in the only way that wash going to get through to him."

Nano narrowed her eyes. "You're manipulating him," she said. "Still. You're . . . you're _playing_ him."

"Directing," said Zylus. "He'sh made a total messh of hish life, and I'm putting it back together for him. It'sh not the firsht time I've had to do it."

"Oh, isn't it? And what were the _other_ times, then? Tell me all about your _direction."_

He was quiet for a moment, drumming his fingers on the peeling rail.

"Lomadia likesh killing people," he said. "She likesh how it makesh her feel. Powerful. Untouchable. You think she _shtarted_ with rapishtsh? Or did shomebody maybe mention to her that there wash a shpecial kind of pershon who _desherved_ to die? And Panda—Panda ushed to be sho full of hate it wash coming out hish earsh. He wash on the verge of going nutsh on a full lecture hall becaushe he hated the world sho much. Up until he shtarted dating Nileshy and deshided there were actually good thingsh in the world, becaushe maybe shomebody let shlip that Nileshy washn't unavailable jusht becaushe he wash already dating Lom. And Nileshy'sh getting better. I'm shtill working on him. There'sh a lot more shit to get through in there."

Nano glared at him, something hot and red smoldering in her chest.

"They're terrible people, Nano," Zylus said quietly. "But there'sh enough monshtersh in thish world, and god dammit, I'm going to make heroesh of them if it'sh the lasht thing I do."

"So that's it, then," said Nano, seething. "That's all this is. You're just _using_ them. You're using _him."_

Zylus looked over at her, composed. "People like Nileshy _need_ to be ushed," he said. "Otherwishe they end up like Xephosh."

Gritting her teeth, digging her fingernails into her palms, Nano blinked back furious tears, so riddled with rage that it was making her sweat.

"I can't believe I ever pitied you," she hissed. "I can't believe I ever _liked_ you."

Zylus shrugged, turning his eyes back to the city. "If it makesh you feel any better," he said, "you were shupposhed to."

She glared at him for a long moment, his composure grating on her frayed nerves.

"Zylus," she said.

"If it'll help," he said.

She reeled back and punched him in the jaw as hard as she could. He staggered to the side, nearly falling down the stairs, clutching the rail and shaking his head. He touched his mouth with his fingertips and they came away bloody. He looked up at Nano.

"Better?" he drawled.

"A bit, yes," she said primly. "Maybe remember _that_ next time you decide to play with people for fun."

_"Fun?"_ said Zylus, and there was a breath of flame on his words. "I'm not doing thish for _fun._ I'm doing thish becaushe they're my _friendsh,_ becaushe they're—" He broke off, turned his face back towards the city. He folded his arms and leaned against the railing. "Becaushe they're the closhesht thing I have to a family, and I can't . . . loshe them. I can't watch them turn themshelvesh into monshtersh. Hollowing themshelvesh out and filling all the empty shpashesh with monshtroush thingsh."

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" said Nano.

"They _hurt,"_ he said, and there was genuine pain in his voice. "And I feel it. All of it. And I want to make it _shtop,_ but I _can't._ The besht I can do ish try to give them what they need, even if it meansh hurting them worshe shometimesh. I can't loshe them, even to themshelvesh. I . . . I love them. And I can't shtand to watch them hurt."

"You don't get to decide what they need," said Nano.

"Well _they_ sure ash hell don't know," Zylus said, glaring at her.

"Zylus," said Nano, "you remember how you said Nilesy could end up like Xephos? I think you're wrong. I think the only person _I_ know who's in danger of ending up like Xephos is _you."_

His eyes got wide, and his jaw clenched, and his face went pale.

"I am _nothing_ like him," he spat. "I _love_ them, I'm trying to _help—"_

"You know what Xephos said, before Nilesy killed him?" Nano interrupted. "Have a look, because _I'm_ never going to forget it."

The scene was still clear in her mind, burned indelibly into the the fabric of her memory.

_I loved you. We were going to fix you._

"That'sh—different," said Zylus, recoiling in horror. "He doeshn't—he didn't—"

"You don't get to decide what they need," Nano repeated, speaking slowly and clearly, her consonants clipped.

He stared at her, eyes flicking over her face. He swallowed, and licked his lips, and looked away.

"Then what am I shupposhed to _do?"_ he asked, sounding small and frightened and helpless.

"An apology would be a good start," said Nano.

Zylus bowed his head. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks.

"I don't . . . know what to shay," he said.

"Aim for honesty," she said. "If you can find it."

He winced, drawing his arms around himself.

"I'll try," he said.

Nano sighed, then reached out and touched his shoulder.

"I understand," she said. "But when you love people, you have to let them hurt. You have to let them hurt _themselves._ Otherwise you're taking something from them. And, yeah, they'll do it wrong. They'll make things worse. They'll fuck up. All you can give them is your honesty and support. Anything else you do is taking."

Zylus sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"I'm . . . a terrible pershon," he said.

"Well, you're in good company, then," said Nano. "Maybe it's time to try and _stop_ being terrible. Put a little effort into making _yourself_ better, instead of trying to fix other people."

He looked at her, his eyes red and his lip quivering. Weakly, he cracked a smile.

"Ish that the honeshty?" he asked.

"Yes," said Nano. "And if you want it, I've got some support, too."

He pulled her into a hug, and she hugged right back.

"Promise you're not just doing this to make me like you again?" she asked, while he continued to sniffle.

"Ish it working?" he asked damply.

"Not a bit," said Nano, headbutting him lightly in the sternum.

"Oh, thank God," said Zylus. "I don't know what I'd do if you liked me."

"You'd make sure you were worth it," Nano said.

Zylus was quiet for a moment. He squeezed her, then pulled away. She let him go.

"I'll try," he said again.

"That's a good start," she said.

* * *

 

Lomadia was just shutting the door to Panda's room when Nano came back inside, having left Zylus on the stairs outside. Lomadia's hands were still wet from being washed, and some of her hair had fallen into her face. Her wings were tucked close to her back, shrinking her silhouette. Nano hesitated just a moment before heading into the kitchen and making a pretense of looking for something to eat, even though she wasn't hungry.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Hurt," said Lomadia. "And scared."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"His eye's gone," said Lomadia.

Nano stood a moment, hunched over and looking into the fridge without seeing anything. She straightened up and shut the door before turning around. Lomadia was standing a few feet behind her, watching her.

"I know," she said. "But it didn't kill _me,_ and I don't think it'll kill him."

"What didn't kill you?" Lomadia asked, frowning.

"Losing an eye," said Nano. She tapped the skin just under her blind right eye. "It sucked, but . . . most days I barely notice it anymore."

"Your eye doesn't work?"

"Not a bit."

"Why didn't you say before?"

"Honestly? Because I forgot. That's how much it doesn't bother me anymore. I was—there were more important things to talk about. When we were talking."

Lomadia moved forward, her claws clicking on the linoleum of the kitchen floor. She took Nano's face in her hands and peered at her right eye, her face so close that her breath ruffled the tiny hairs on Nano's cheek.

"You really can't see out of it?" she asked. Her hands were warm, her voice mellifluous.

"N-no," said Nano, struggling to keep her voice from squeaking. "No, it . . . not at all. Can't see a thing if I close the other one."

"You fly really well, for only having one eye," said Lomadia.

"Um, th-thank you—"

Lomadia leaned in. Nano shut her eye on instinct, and Lomadia kissed the lid. Warmth flooded out from the contact, lighting her face up red and making the rest of her tingle.

"We should go fly for a bit," said Lomadia. Suddenly, she moved from Nano's side, heading for the window.

"Is—I mean, is that a good idea?" Nano asked, her heart pounding.

Lomadia shrugged, shaking out her wings. She looked back over her shoulder at Nano.

"They'll be okay without us," she said. "Come on."

And with that, she hauled open the bay window and leapt out into the night. After only a moment's hesitation, Nano followed.

It was a clear night, balmy, full of noise. Lomadia led her up high above the rooftops, up to where the city sparkled and glowed, set her wings and glided slow and easy. Nano went along with her, taking in the smell of the sky, the patchwork patterns of the city beneath them, the distant roar of traffic punctuated by horns and sirens. This high, she could see the stars above, too, cool as river water and pale in comparison to the jeweled city beneath.

They flew for long minutes, nearly half an hour, their pace unhurried and their path meandering. They passed over the downtown area and Nano could hear faint club music drumming at the walls of some poor old building, the swell and sigh of human voices raised in laughter and celebration.

Eventually Lomadia flew downward, gliding in silence, and Nano followed. She alighted on a balcony rail outside the fortieth story of a skyscraper, turning to face the city and folding her wings behind her. She tucked her knees up to her chest, squatting on the rail, shifted her feet a couple of times, and sighed. Nano landed on the balcony, then climbed up to sit on the railing next to her. She left her hand on the rail next to Lomadia, hyper-aware of her nearness and the way her hands were resting on her own knees.

"Thank you," Nano said quietly. "You never really notice how beautiful it is when you're down in it."

"Yes," said Lomadia. "And you've been sad and scared, and I think you forgot that things could be beautiful."

Nano looked over at Lomadia—the light of the city painting her face in gold, gleaming from her eyes and burnishing her hair. Carefully, she touched the back of one finger to Lomadia's leg.

"Not entirely," she said.

Lomadia looked over at her and raised her eyebrows. She tipped her head down to look at the finger touching her leg. Nano's skin burned, and her finger begged to be pulled away before this got any worse, before it became any worse of a mistake.

Lomadia reached down and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. She looked back up at Nano and smiled.

"You're cheesy," she said.

Nano ducked her head and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"A bit, yeah," she admitted.

"I like it," said Lomadia.

"Yeah?" said Nano. Her heart was beating so hard it was making her voice skip like a scratched CD. "Well—good. Because I'm going to do it a lot."

Lomadia squeezed her hand and turned her face back to the city below them.

"I like to come up here," she said. "I like to just listen to everything. Sometimes when I'm working, but other times just to listen. You can hear lots from up here. Mostly everything."

Nano shut her eyes and listened. The city was a low roar below her, the sound of a million living things going about their lives, kind and cruel, joyful and grieving, together and alone. The size of it hit her suddenly, and the smallness of herself. She was a drop in an ocean, in the middle of a bigger ocean, on a spun marble rolling through an empty room. She clutched Lomadia's hand a little tighter, feeling herself tipping off of the balcony.

"It's . . . so much bigger than us," she said softly. "Isn't it. All of this. This—YogLabs business, everything. It's bigger than just us and Lalnable and Xephos. It's the whole world we're trying to change."

Lomadia shrugged. "I guess," she said. "I don't really think about it."

"Lucky," Nano muttered.

"Not really," said Lomadia. "Other people think about it, and I don't really understand. You run off and do things and you don't say why, and I just have to guess you're doing the right thing. And then you leave me home and I have to guess that I was supposed to stay there because you didn't need me. Or want me. I don't really care about the big things, so it doesn't really matter, but I care about you. I save people, just one person at a time, because that's all I can do. I do small things because I'm small, and the rest of you do such big things and I get left behind. I'd say it's not fair, but I don't know if it is. Maybe it's fair. Maybe I'm only here for small things because I'm a small person."

"Lom, no," Nano said, pained, looking over at her. "That's not _at all_ what's going on. I would've asked you to come with us in a _heartbeat,_ I just—didn't know how to get hold of you. I thought Zylus was going to, but . . . apparently he thought you shouldn't come."

Lomadia nodded. "Because I wasn't supposed to be there," she said. "Panda got hurt, but maybe it would've been worse if I'd been there. Maybe _I_ would've got hurt, and I guess that's supposed to be worse. I can't help with stuff. I'm not smart, and I can't do big things like you can."

"Now _that's_ not true, who told you that?" Nano demanded.

"Nobody," said Lomadia. "I can tell I'm not smart. It's okay. Not everybody can be smart. I can do other things, like fly, and see stuff, and hear everything. I can save people, one at a time. I can live by myself. Maybe I _should_ live by myself, and just do small things with my small life and that's it."

"Lomadia," Nano said, "what you do isn't _small._ Saving people, that's huge, that's the biggest thing there is. I've never managed to save _anyone,_ with all my smarts and all my Powers and all my _stuff,_ I've never saved anybody. I got a lot of people into a huge mess, and I'm still fighting to clean it up. I was part of a . . . a terrible system for a long time, a system that hurts people, and I'm not sure I'm—I'm ever going to be able to make up for that."

There were tears pricking at her eyes, guilt curdling in her stomach and a lump in her throat.

"But I'm trying," she went on, "because that's all I can do, and I—I don't even know why I'm _saying_ this, because it's not what I was trying to say. I was trying to say that—that you've done _so much_ already, you've done so much _good,_ just being . . . _you,_ and if people are leaving you behind, then _they're_ the ones who aren't smart, because you're _incredible_ and you're—you're—I don't _know,_ Lom, you're amazing, and I wish—I—from the moment I first found out about you, I wished I could be like you! I wished I could be that strong, I wished I could be that confident and that—that _heroic._ I wished I could make the world that small."

Lomadia sniffled and wiped her nose on her hand. She shifted on the balcony rail, ruffling her wings.

"You're trying to do big things, though," she said. "You're trying to save a lot of people all at once. Which is why it's taking a long time, because it's big."

Nano sighed, looking out at the city, bustling in lights beneath her. She kicked her feet, thunking her heels against the metal struts holding up the rail.

"Maybe we're _both_ good enough," she said. "Maybe we're both being a bit thick about this."

Lomadia considered this.

"Yeah," she said, nodding decisively. "I think that's right. Because I know _you're_ good enough."

"And I know _you're_ good enough."

Lomadia cracked a smile. "Okay," she said. "I believe you."

Nano paused, then leaned over and kissed Lomadia on the cheek. Lomadia leaned against her, folding a wing around her shoulders.

"I think we get stupid when we're around the boys too long," she said. "They get all stupid and it makes us stupid, too."

Nano snorted. "You might be onto something, there. They all take themselves so _seriously._ It's contagious."

"We're good medicine for each other, then."

"Definitely."

"Nano?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad I didn't kill you."

Nano burst out laughing, leaning back and kicking her feet. Lomadia nudged her shoulder, pulling a face.

"It's not funny," she said. "I mean it."

"I know! I know," Nano said. She wiped at her eyes. "I'm glad you didn't kill me, too. God, I'd just—I'd forgotten. I'd _completely_ forgotten about that bullshit. Christ, what was _wrong_ with us? We were such idiots about the whole thing."

"Yeah," said Lomadia, ducking her head. She was, to Nano's delight, blushing. "I got mad."

"God, did you ever," said Nano. "I was fucking _terrified._ You're scary, you know that?"

Lomadia smiled again. Her talons tapped out a little rhythm on the balcony rail.

"Yes," she said. "I like it."

"Well, you're very good at it."

"Thanks," said Lomadia. "I get—not scared, but—what's like scared, only it's sort of, because you're amazing and really smart and I don't know what to say because I want to say the right things and I'm scared I'll sound stupid."

"Um," said Nano, her heart aching, "maybe . . . _intimidated?"_

"In-timi-dated," Lomadia said, rolling the word on her tongue. She nodded. "I think so, okay. I get _intimidated_ by you."

"Lom, you don't have to be scared of saying stupid things," said Nano. "First of all, nothing you say is stupid, and _second_ of all, I . . . well. When Lalna was—when Lalna was new, they . . . they were sort of stupid. Not like—just in a sort of—they asked a lot of questions, and—and didn't really understand things, and I—I mean, I. . . ."

There was a thick lump in her throat, and tears in her eyes, and pain wrapped like a tangle of thorns around her heart. She shook her head and a pair of tears slid down her cheeks. She chuffed out something like a laugh and wiped them away.

"I loved them with all my shriveled little heart," she said, and sniffled. "So—so don't be scared of saying stupid things, because—I'm all right with that."

For a time, there was quiet, just the low roar of the city beneath them.

"I'm sorry," Lomadia said.

Nano shook her head, wiping her cheeks again. "I guess—thank you," she said. "I haven't really . . . thought about it. There's just been so much going on, it's been—there hasn't been time. To do things properly. To . . . grieve. I still don't really think there is. I'm not sure there ever will be."

Lomadia nodded. She squeezed Nano's hand.

"There can be time now, if you want."

"No, I—no. I'd rather this be . . . good. Nice times, with just you and me, because—hell with it, we might not get another chance. We might all be dead tomorrow, who the fuck knows, and I don't want to spend—there's plenty of other people I can talk about Lalna with, I'd rather—with you, I'd rather—I'd rather it just be us. For now. Because there might not be another time."

Lomadia considered her, head tilting back and forth as she examined Nano's face.

"Okay," she said. "Do you want to come stay in my nest tonight?"

Nano's heart leapt, though it was still aching.

"I—I think I, um," she said. She was blushing hot enough to make herself sweat. "I think I would . . . like that, yes."

Lomadia grinned, her eyes narrowing to golden crescent moons.

"Okay," she said.

* * *

 

Nano's back hit the floor hard, and even the cushy padding of the nest couldn't keep it from knocking the breath out of her. Lomadia came down on top of her, holding her hands, kissing her passionately. Nano wrapped her legs around Lomadia's waist and bridged up into her, her whole body afire, her blood singing in her ears. Lomadia's wings were spread wide above the two of them, reflecting the warm glow of the Christmas lights around the nest. Her dangling hair tickled Nano's neck, her breath was hot and sweet.

She kissed up Nano's jaw to her ear, leaving tiny tingling footprints across her skin.

"Sex?" she asked, and the word made Nano's whole body fill up with sparks.

"Uh," she said. "Wh-what?"

"Do you want to have sex?" Lomadia repeated. Her voice resonated in Nano's bones, left her ringing and bright.

"Um," said Nano, her voice squeaking. "Yes."

Lomadia grinned and went right back to kissing her.

 


	51. Chapter 50

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Stunned and dizzy, Nilesy somehow managed to get himself into bed, burrow under the covers and curl up small. His head was spinning, his vision distant and disconnected from his brain. Most everything was disconnected from his brain, which was floating in cold water and always threatening to sink below the surface.

_Xephos should have fixed you when he had the chance._

Like a hollow needle in his head, the words stung and sucked at him, prickling at memories that had been left to rot. They came gurgling up now, putrid and decayed, the skeletal hands and tattered flesh of them clawing about with blind abandon.

 _Take that silly thing off, Liam,_ his father had said, frowning down at him. _We're going home._

 _Home?_ he'd said, his voice so small and so broken and so _hopeful._

_Yes, home! I've found a way to fix you. It's a relatively simple procedure—well, as simple as brain surgery ever is—and afterwards you should be practically normal. It took a good deal of hunting, but we finally found another hydrokinesthete and managed to localize the part of her brain responsible for her Powers. It's just a small piece of the temporal lobe, nothing terribly important. Once we've got it out of you, I dare say you'll be able to function like a real person!_

_I don't want to,_ he'd said, but then they'd ripped the mask from his face and stolen his voice along with it, and what point was there in fighting? He'd tried fighting before and they'd only sedated him, locked him up even tighter so that he didn't see the sky for eight days. There was no point in fighting.

And there had been the ferry, cold and unresponsive water all around him as he'd stood on the deck with the spray kissing his face. It had smelled strongly of petrol, so much so that his father had kept his handkerchief over his nose almost the entire time. No one else had been on the boat, except the captain and her first mate.

He'd snuck out of his room, because his father slept deeply, when he slept at all. He'd crept across the deck, sat down on the edge of the boat and watched the moonlit water rush by underneath his kicking feet, black and welcoming.

The sea had been rough enough that no one heard the splash. He was not a strong swimmer, and there was no Power in him to aid him. But he'd gone until the ferry was out of sight, until his arms ached and his legs burned, until the cold sucked the strength from his limbs and left him gasping, struggling to stay afloat.

He'd tried to scream, but the freezing water had stolen his voice. No help had come. No one had heard him, gasping and gurgling alone there in the briny dark.

The pain had been incredible, unbelievable. He'd sunk into darkness, down and down and down, burning with agony until, suddenly, he wasn't. It had all gone numb and his mind had gone whisper-quiet as the rushing dark around him.

Hell was a lot colder and a lot darker and a lot _emptier_ than he'd expected. It had taken him a long, long time to figure out that it was just the bottom of the ocean. The fish were what gave it away.

There must have been currents, because he was sure he hadn't been so close to shore, but he'd found a slope and started up it, his feet kicking up huge clouds of silt. There was so little strength left in his limbs, but somehow the sea had carried him to shore and left him there, bathed in the golden light of sunset, face-down in the sand and hiccuping mouthfuls of brine out of his lungs while the receding tide lapped at his heels.

And then. . . .

_Ian! Ian, come quick! Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, he's still alive! Get your coat off, help me get him up—_

Tears prickled Nilesy's eyes, a deep ache caved his chest in and he tried to curl into it, tried to fill the hollow space with his own limbs as though he could make it stop hurting.

As though he could ever make it stop hurting.

Behind him, he heard the door open—it was a distant sound, miles away, but he started reeling himself back anyway, pulling away from the chasm of memory on the strength of nothing more than fishing line. He found his body right where he'd left it, tears on its face, lying there with all its limbs curled to its chest like a dead spider. The hollow ache did not subside.

A weight settled on the bed, and Nilesy stiffened. His skin was crawling, and he was certain he would scream if anyone tried to touch him.

"Hey," said Rythian, his voice soft. "Just me."

Nilesy said nothing. His voice had deserted him, left him alone and cold and empty. He wished desperately to put the mask back on and make it all better, but somehow the thing had lost its power—he'd felt it ten minutes ago, when he'd put it on. It was just plastic now, just a cheap piece of junk that did nothing to help him. He dug his fingernails into his chest and shivered. He was back in himself now, but it was worse here than in his memories. Those, at least, were softened by time, the pain dulled. Here, things were fresh and sharp and clear. Here, there was no insight, no path, no future.

"He didn't mean it," Rythian said.

 _Yes he did,_ Nilesy wanted to say, but his lips and teeth wouldn't part for the words, his tongue was glued in place.

"I'm glad you're here," Rythian went on. "Now. With—all your Powers and everything. I think—it's just that, if you hadn't been here, Xephos would still be alive, and the other robot, and—that has to count for something. Doesn't it?"

He couldn't answer, so he just shook his head. At least the rest of his body was still responding, even if his voice had gone.

"Nilesy," Rythian said, and there was such pain in his voice that it made Nilesy's hollow chest ring in resonance. "Please. I'm— _I'm_ glad you're here. Just—it's just that—I wouldn't take it back. I wouldn't . . . _un-_ meet you. Even after—everything that's happened. I wouldn't."

He was less than a foot away. Nilesy could so easily just stretch out a hand and touch him, take up that lightning pain and let it burn him from the inside out, let it scorch away all the rotten debris inside and leave him a charred and empty shell, cleansed by fire, purged of all evil, and most of all _dead. . . ._

_Xephos should have fixed you when he had the chance._

Nilesy dug his fingernails deeper into the skin of his chest. He was struggling to breathe, drowning in his own thoughts, unable to spit them out because his lips would not part. There was nowhere to run, no escape, no relief. His heart hammered in his ears, his mind started to come loose again, drifting out on cold black seas to a safer darkness.

"Oh, God, I'm—I'm sorry, I don't know what I said, I'm sorry—" Rythian was blithering, and Nilesy could feel his hands hovering in helpless panic above him, like butterflies trying to land on rushing water.

Right there, so close, just a twitch away, and it would all be over.

_Xephos should have fixed you when he had the chance._

His fingernails were drawing blood, seeping it into his shirt. He was shaking like mad, shivering himself to pieces, the cold of a moonlit ocean in his bones.

Rythian let out a frustrated growl, and his weight shifted on the bed. Some of the prickling of Nilesy's skin subsided, and he knew Rythian had turned his eyes away.

For a time, there was only the sound of breathing, of shivering, of the dehumidifier whirring unconcernedly next to the bed.

"There's nothing I can say, is there," Rythian murmured eventually. "There's nothing I can say to make this better."

Nilesy didn't answer. He couldn't, even without any eyes on him. At least he had managed to calm his shaking. The pain in his chest was helping to bring him back to himself, the faint smell of blood and the sting of broken skin.

"I love you," Rythian said. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for . . . all of this. I'm sorry any of this happened to you. I'm sorry, Nilesy. I wish there was something I could do."

 _You don't have to apologize,_ he wanted to say, _willed_ himself to say, because it was important that Rythian know, more important than his own stupid inability to speak. He shoved at the words, focused all his energy on getting them out into the world—pried his own jaw open, tore his tongue away from its moorings, squeezed his eyes shut and _pushed._

"Don't . . . 'pologize," he managed, his voice the barest mouse's squeak. He felt Rythian tense on the bed, heard the sharp intake of breath.

"I . . . okay," said Rythian, sounding stunned. "I-it was more . . . sympathy, than an apology, but—but okay, I won't."

Nilesy nodded to himself, allowing some of the fierce tension to drain from him. He'd said what needed to be said, despite everything. It would have to do, for now.

Just then, the door opened, and he pulled taut again, feeling eyes on him.

"Get out," Rythian snarled. He shot to his feet, making the bed jiggle with the sudden loss of his weight.

"I jusht want to talk to him," Zylus said, his voice pitched low and gentle.

"You've said enough," Rythian retorted. There was the distinctive _crack_ of electricity arcing.

"I came to _apologize,_ Rythian."

"I don't care. Get the fuck _out."_

"Why don't we ashk Nileshy what _he_ wantsh? How about that."

"Nilesy can't—"

There was a beat of silence.

"Nonverbal?" Zylus asked quietly, and there was pain in his voice. "Chrisht, I'm shuch a fucking _dick."_

"Yes," Rythian snapped. "Yes, you are. _Leave."_

"Nileshy?" Zylus said. Nilesy felt another pair of eyes fall on him, needling the back of his neck. "Do you want me to go?"

It took some effort to even move, because of the tension of his muscles and the prickling of his skin and the drifting distance of his mind. Eventually, though, he managed to shake his head.

"Guessh I'm shtaying," said Zylus, utterly unapologetic.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," said Rythian.

Zylus heaved out a put-upon sigh. "Do you _have_ to do thish? Really?"

Rythian said nothing. Nilesy could almost hear Zylus rolling his eyes.

 _"Nileshy?"_ Zylus said, as though demonstrating something to a preschooler. "Would you like Rythian to shtay?"

This time, it took only a moment's pause to gather the strength to shake his head.

"There, shee?" said Zylus.

"But—"

"Are you going to tell him he'sh wrong?"

There was another moment of silence, and then Rythian growled. Another spark _cracked_ through the air.

"You can have five minutes," he said. "And that's being generous."

"You can take the dehumidifier," Zylus said. "Then you don't have to worry about getting shparksh in your lungsh."

"That's not—that has nothing to do with it!" Rythian sputtered.

"Really," Zylus said flatly. "Fine. Five minutesh. Bye."

Rythian's footsteps were heavy as he left the room. The door clicked closed behind him with an air of finality. Nilesy braced himself for the worst, which was no less than he deserved.

_Xephos should have—_

The bed shifted as Zylus sat down on it. Nilesy stayed where he was, his back stiff, his hands clenched on his chest, tears crawling slowly across the bridge of his nose and along the bottom of his temple.

Zylus sighed.

"Give me your foot," he said.

Nilesy frowned, turned his head enough to look at him. His head was bowed, the corners of his mouth turned down, his brows drawn together.

"What?" said Nilesy. His voice came out rusty, as though it had been left unused for too long.

Zylus looked at him and held out a hand. "Give me your foot," he repeated.

Slowly, Nilesy uncurled one leg and set his heel on Zylus's thigh, rolling halfway onto his back. Zylus kept his head down and shifted his position, then dug his thumbs into the ball of Nilesy's foot, his focus unwavering.

"Zylus, what—" Nilesy began, baffled.

"You've earned it," said Zylus. He was working some kind of magic with his hands, drawing out deep pain that Nilesy hadn't even known was there until it was gone.

"How?" he asked, shaking his head.

Zylus took a moment to answer, working at the arch of Nilesy's foot.

"By shurviving thish long," he said at last. "I think that'sh been hard enough."

Nilesy didn't respond. Anything he could say would only make things worse, and this fragile peace warranted preservation, fleeting as it was. Zylus went on massaging his foot, keeping his head down.

Eventually, Zylus patted the top of his foot. "Shwitch," he said.

Nilesy tucked his foot under Zylus's knee and uncurled his other leg, rolling the rest of the way onto his back. Zylus took his other foot and started in on it. Some of the sternness had gone from his face, and he seemed more focused than displeased.

"I'm shorry," he said quietly.

"For what?" said Nilesy.

Zylus scoffed, shaking his head. "For being a complete bashtard to you?"

Nilesy looked away, folding his arms over his chest. "You didn't say anything that wasn't true. I just . . . took it poorly."

"You . . . were meant to," Zylus mumbled.

Nilesy froze, blinking.

"Sorry?" he said.

"I wash—I wash _trying_ to pissh you off," he said. He kept his eyes on his hands, working the heel of Nilesy's foot. "Trying to make you realize that—trying to _make_ you shtop with the shuishidal talk. It wash wrong. It wash . . . manipulative. And I'm shorry. I jusht—can't loshe you. And I didn't know how elshe to make sure I didn't."

 _It didn't work,_ he wanted to say, but didn't. Zylus looked up at him, concern written in every feature. Nilesy's mouth pulled itself into a smile.

"S'pose you heard that," he said dryly.

"Nileshy, pleashe, I want to help," Zylus said. He was holding his foot like it was a kitten.

"I know," he said gently. "And I wish you could. I wish I could just be . . . _fixed._ If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going to do anything about it. You were right. I've got too much to make up for. I haven't earned a way out just yet."

"Nileshy, that wash fucking _bullshit,_ okay?" Zylus said, pained. "It'sh not true, you don't have to do anything, I jusht—I jusht don't want you to _die,_ and I shaid shtupid fucking thingsh to fuck with your head to try and forshe you to live, and it'sh—"

"It's okay, Zylus," Nilesy said. "I'll be here for a while. You got what you wanted, after all. You haven't got to apologize."

"You are shuch a fucking _idiot,"_ Zylus said, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Why the fuck do you _do_ thish? Do you jusht have—shelective hearing or shomething? Ish that it? You jusht hear the worsht of everything and nothing else even makesh it into your head?"

"Maybe," said Nilesy, failing an attempt at a smile. "If it bothers you that much, you're welcome to go. I won't blame you. I'd leave me, too, if I could."

"Fuck'sh _shake,_ Nileshy, I'm not _leaving_ you, I _love_ you!"

Nilesy pulled up short, all the wind going out of his sails, leaving him floundering. He stared at Zylus, speechless, not a single word in his head. Zylus sighed and pressed on the bridge of his nose with his wrist, wincing.

"I jusht—I'm sho tired of being lonely. I'm sho _tired_ of being what people need. I'm tired of hiding inshide shome— _shell_ of a pershon I make up to be perfect for shomebody elshe. And you—you're the only pershon I know who I _don't_ think would hate me if you knew what wash inshide the shell. Becaushe Chrisht, all the shit you've sheen, me being a pieshe of shit doeshn't even shcratch the fucking shurfashe, and you—you jusht—you jusht _love_ people, and you don't shtop loving them, even when they're horrendoush, even when they hurt you, even when they're not . . . who you thought they were. You even shaid sho, you shaid you didn't care if I washn't the pershon you thought I wash, and I—I _need_ that. I need _you._ I _can't_ loshe you. I'm not like you. I'm not shtrong enough to take it."

Nilesy watched him for a long moment, watched the tears run down his face and gather at the tip of his chin. He took a deep breath and sighed it out.

"Well," he said. "Panda's a fucking liar."

Zylus looked up at him, face scrunched up with confusion. Nilesy gestured to his foot, still resting on Zylus's leg.

"That was _not_ better than sex," he said. "And I'd consider myself an expert."

Zylus snorted and ducked his head, pressing his wrist to the bridge of his nose again.

"You're changing the shubject," he said damply, and sniffled.

"Thanks Captain Obvious," said Nilesy, "I hadn't noticed."

"I'm trying to be _honesht_ here," Zylus said. "Which ish kind of fucking new for me."

"Sorry, did you want to keep going? Only you were sort of rambling there a bit and—"

"You're shuch a dick shometimesh."

Nilesy grinned. "It's part of my fucking charm," he said.

Without warning, Zylus flung himself on the bed and scooped Nilesy into his arms, burying his face in his shoulder and squeezing so tight it made Nilesy's ribs creak.

"I'm sho fucking shcared of loshing you," he mumbled, his voice thick with tears. "All of you. Lom, Panda, Nano. Rythian. All the fucking time, it'sh making me _crazy."_

Carefully, Nilesy wrapped his arms around Zylus and kissed the peach fuzz of his hair.

"Put a tenner in the jar, darling," he murmured.

Zylus punched him in the back of the head.

* * *

 

The next four days passed in relative peace. Nilesy didn't see much of Lomadia in that time, or of Nano, but for the most part he was all right with this. He spent a good deal of his time by himself, trying to sort through the tremendous mess in his head. After the first night, spent near-sleepless on the couch, Rythian invited him to stay in his own room, with him. The next night he'd spent with Panda, although it had been a quiet and reserved affair, more about physical proximity than anything else. On the third night he was back with Rythian, since Lomadia was still otherwise occupied. He'd dropped off to sleep almost the moment he'd gone to bed, Rythian's arms wrapped around him, his breath warm on his neck. He snuck out early on the morning of the fifth day without waking Rythian, although he did leave him a little kiss on the lips, just in case he was aware enough to feel it.

Lomadia and Nano were out in the front room, drinking tea and not speaking. Nano was leaning against Lomadia's arm. Lomadia turned her head when Nilesy came out of his room. She had a glow about her, finger-brushed hair and bright eyes and lips red from kissing.

"Hi," she said. Nano turned around, too, keeping a hand on Lomadia's arm.

Nilesy folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. His heart was smarting, but he pushed the feeling down—there was no call for pettiness, especially not when Lomadia was so clearly happy.

"Well," he said, appraising. "Looks like the two of you had another good night."

Nano blushed and buried her face in Lomadia's shoulder. Lomadia smiled at him.

"Yes," she said. "Did you?"

"Good enough," said Nilesy, and the lie stung his insides more than it usually did. He moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on, then made a show of looking for breakfast. Although he was shaky and his stomach was knotted up with hunger, the thought of eating was unappealing. He would do it anyway, though, because Lomadia was there and watching.

"Did Zylus ever apologize?" Nano asked.

Nilesy hesitated.

"He did, actually," he said. After a moment's consideration, he decided not to ask why she cared.

"Well . . . good," said Nano. "I'm glad."

Nilesy settled on buttered toast for breakfast, and fixed his tea while he waited for the butter to melt. He sat himself on Lomadia's other side and leaned up against her arm, mimicking Nano's posture. Lomadia preened, which took some of the sting out of the tail end of his jealousy. Despite his lack of appetite, he found it easy enough to eat, especially with her warmth suffusing him.

Over the course of the next hour, the other three came shuffling out of their respective rooms, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Panda was grumbling to himself, and went straight to the sink for a glass of water. There was a fresh plaster on his finger, presumably from the morning's blood sugar check. There was also a bandage over his left eye, a thick cotton pad held in place by gauze wrapped around his head. Nilesy left his spot at Lomadia's side to sit next to him and hold his hand while he drank his water. He made sure to keep on his right side.

After only a few minutes, Rythian started coughing, throwing longing glances back at Nilesy's room. Zylus, without a word, went and got the dehumidifier, setting it up next to the TV.

"There," he said, putting his fists on his hips. "Now you don't have to be a reclushe anymore. Should've thought of that agesh ago, shorry."

"Thank you," Rythian mumbled. He was blushing.

"Oy, Niles," Panda said, nudging him with an elbow. "D'you think you can do my injection for me? I'm all shaky."

"Of course, darling," Nilesy said. He kissed Panda's cheek and went to retrieve the insulin from the refrigerator. "Where've you left the needles?"

"They're in—"

The door blew in.

There was an explosion of splintering wood, a screech of torn metal, shattering of glass. Someone screamed. Nilesy hit the floor on instinct alone, and the freezer above his head burst in a shower of molten plastic. He reached up and grabbed Panda, hauled him down behind the kitchen island, saw Rythian stagger back with a look of absolute horror on his face.

Saw the silver android standing in the ruins of the door, palm upraised, eyes glowing hellfire red above an impassive face.

The hand moved, jerked to one side in an utterly mechanical motion, pointed directly at Nano's head and fired off instantly with a _pop!_

Another chunk of wall exploded as Lomadia shoved Nano out of the way, but there was a second hand raising, taking aim at _her,_ too, while the first readjusted to get Nano's head in the crosshairs again, while Rythian took another staggering step back, while Panda drew a single shuddering breath as though to scream—

Nilesy reached out with all the Power in him and _hurled_ Rythian at the monstrous machine.

 _Pop, pop!_ went the laser rifles, and then there was a horrific _crack,_ a thunderous crash like a whole cabinet of pots and pans being toppled to the floor, another crash as the plywood shelves by the door fell over and spattered their contents all over the main room, broken glass and papers and rolling coins, a sizzling sound, a truncated cry.

And then silence.

Slowly, Nilesy became aware of his own breathing, and then Panda's. He was crouched on the floor, pinning Panda against the kitchen island with one arm, the other hand outstretched from where he had flung Rythian across the room. There was a ticking and clicking as bits of the wall and the freezer fell onto the linoleum, a crackle of settling broken glass. The roar of traffic from outside filtered in through the shattered ruins of the door.

"Is everybody okay?" Nano asked. Her voice was shaking, breathless.

"I'm all right," Zylus said, from somewhere near the TV. He was still totally invisible—he must have vanished at the first shot.

"I'm okay," said Lomadia.

"Fine," Rythian managed, although he sounded like he'd been punched in the gut.

Panda was sitting still, his eye wide, staring at nothing. Nilesy slowly let his upraised hand fall and turned his attention to Panda.

"All right, darling?" he asked softly, touching his face.

Slowly, Panda nodded. "You?" he said.

"Not hurt," said Nilesy. With shaking legs, he got to his feet, helping Panda to rise as well.

The flat was a wreck. The android had kicked the door in, peppering the room with splinters and glass shards. There were holes all over the kitchen—the one in the freezer was leaking green peas onto the floor. Another hole had been melted clean through the bay window, neatly puncturing the blinds. Six of Lomadia's feathers lay on the floor, singed. The microwave above the stove was so much melted plastic, sparking erratically.

Rythian had managed to get himself upright, and now Nano was crouched over the robot. It lay on the floor, unmoving, its eyes dark, smoke curling from its joints. The floor around it was scorched, cracked from the impact of its body.

"What . . . just happened?" Panda asked, sounding dazed.

Rythian was staring at the robot, shaking. Slowly, Zylus faded back into view, just to his right.

"Rythian," he said softly, reaching out a hand. "It'sh okay. No one'sh dead. That'sh not Lalna. Everyone'sh okay. Thish ish the flat. It'sh July shecond. You're okay."

Rythian blinked, shaking himself. "I—I know," he said. "I know. I'm . . . okay."

"Ish it okay if I touch you?" Zylus asked, edging closer.

"No," said Rythian.

Zylus raised his hands. "Okay," he said. "Are you here? Do you need me to keep talking?"

"No, I—I'm okay. It's okay."

"Nilesy?" Lomadia said, and she sounded _frightened._

"I'm here," he said, reaching out a hand to her. She took it.

"I thought you killed it," she said. "Nano said you killed it."

"I . . . thought we had," Nilesy said. "Just—not enough, I s'pose. It's dead now, that's all—"

"This is a different robot," Nano said, her voice shaking.

Absolute silence fell in the room. Nilesy's whole body went cold, his mind filled with vapor as he stared down at Nano, uncomprehending. She had one hand on the robot's chest, examining its neck with her eyes wide and her face pale. She looked up at them.

"How do you know?" Lomadia asked, fear lacing her words. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm—I'm pretty sure," said Nano. She gestured to the neck. "There's no damage, no pitting or _anything,_ not even any seams. None of these plates look any newer than the others, it's not a repair job. And—"

She moved to the robot's hands, lifting one up and displaying its wrist.

"The MALaRs cause scarring on the heel of the hand. They get so hot, they sort of melt it a little—not enough to make it drip, but it sort of deforms, and the color changes. This one barely has any—it can't've been fired more than a dozen times, and there's no way Xephos had all those people arrested and killed firing less than thirty shots. I mean, more than thirty people have died since . . . since Lalna, so—it's not the same robot. There's more than one."

"How . . . _many_ more?" Rythian asked, his voice thin.

Nano threw up her hands. "I've got no idea! Maybe there were only two, but—"

"We're not that lucky," said Zylus. "There'sh no way."

"Yeah," said Nano, her shoulders slumping. "Lalnable might not have been as . . . _human_ as Lalna, but they weren't stupid. They wouldn't rush in here if they were the only one left. There's at least one more of these—these things."

 _"Thingsh?"_ said Zylus.

"They're—this one was—slow," said Nano. "Really slow. If someone in Section L is making Lalna clones, they've got to be cutting corners. I mean, it's only been what, a few weeks since we—since they lost Lalna? There's no way you can build a functional AI in that time, it's just not possible. This one was slow and—and stupid. Just a machine, not an intelligence. They—I think they just had orders. This isn't a soldier, it's a drone. Otherwise we'd all be dead, because they'd have shot us through the window. I mean, we could open them up and check, but . . . I'm not sure we'd be able to learn much that we don't already know."

"Well—well what do we _do?"_ Panda asked. He was squeezing Nilesy's hand hard enough to cut off the circulation to his fingers.

"I don't know," said Nano. "I mean, there's no telling how many of these there are, or who's making them, or why. I don't know what we _can_ do."

Nilesy looked around at the others—Rythian standing there with his arms wrapped around his waist, eyes darting; Lomadia with her wings pinned close to her back and her face drawn; Panda shaking where he stood and clutching Nilesy's hand in a death-grip; Zylus pale and stiff, Nano wide-eyed and tight-lipped.

"We take the fight to them," he said. "We draw them out before they come looking for us."

 _"What?"_ said Zylus.

"Are you _crazy?"_ Nano demanded, getting to her feet.

"Put a fucking fiver in the jar," said Nilesy. "We can sit about here waiting for them to come kill us in our sleep, or we can fucking _deal_ with the bastards."

"Niles, they'll _kill_ us," said Panda. "God knows how many of them there are, and we could barely handle _one!"_

"Nilesy's right," said Lomadia. "We were surprised this time, which is why it went bad. If we get surprised again it'll go bad again. We should fight, not hide."

"We should _not die,"_ Zylus snapped. "Which ish _not_ what'sh going to happen if we try to take theshe thingsh on! There could be _dozensh_ of them!"

"You can stay home," said Lomadia. "If you're scared."

"Of _courshe_ I'm fucking shcared! And I'm _not_ shtaying home, thanksh!"

"Somebody has to stay with Rythian," said Lomadia.

"No, actually," said Nilesy. "We're going to need him."

"For _what?"_ said Nano.

Nilesy turned to her and grinned, and he watched the expression shift her foundation out from underneath her, tip her world to one side and leave her unbalanced.

"So happens," he said, "I've got a plan."

Rythian put his face in his hands.

"Oh _no,"_ he moaned.

 


	52. Chapter 51

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Going back to Nano's lab was like stepping into a childhood photograph.

It was just as Rythian remembered it—slightly messy, somewhat colorful, computers and furniture and creaking floors. There was a gaping, Lalna-shaped hole in it, everywhere he looked.

They were not in the kitchen, baking cookies. They were not at the table, working something in their hands. They were not on the sofa, watching TV, waiting for him to come sit down. They were not anywhere, and it was impossible to ignore their absence.

"You _live_ here?" Lomadia said, ducking in through the front door with her eyes wide and starry. The others followed, Panda with his extra backpack full of supplies, Nilesy maskless and quiet, Zylus carrying the dehumidifier. All of them had brought bags of their belongings, whatever could be scraped together in the hurried hours after the robot had burst in on them, which they deposited just inside. Nano held the door open until they were all in. She shut it behind them, locking out the hot and humid afternoon. She pressed a button by door, and metal shutters rolled down over the windows, clanking and rattling until they sealed with a final _clunk._

"Mostly," she said. "Not as much now that I'm a criminal. I'm not sure what's in the kitchen that's still good, but feel free to help yourselves to anything you find. We should be safe here, this place is practically a bunker. At the very least we'll know something's coming before it manages to actually get in."

"And you're _sure_ thish ishn't the firsht fucking plashe YogLabsh ish going to look for ush?" said Zylus.

"Pretty sure, yeah," said Nano. "I think it's Lalnable who's looking for us, and they're too smart for their own good. Coming here is a ridiculously stupid thing to do, so they'll think I haven't done it, because they know I'm very smart."

"You think they won't be watching anyway?" he asked.

"With what eyes? There's no cameras on this street, and I shut down all the internal surveillance ages ago. Xephos was fucking paranoid about anybody knowing where Lalna stayed. Lalnable can hack into anything they like, they won't get a view of us here."

"Whatever you shay," Zylus muttered, folding his arms.

"Yes," said Nano. "Now, I'm going to call Zoey and see if she can come over to help with Rythian's new mask."

The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked over at Nano.

"What?" he said. A spark cracked through his lung and he flinched. He'd been away from the dehumidifier for almost an hour now, and he was starting to taste blood on his breath.

"Just—go sit down. Zylus, go plug that thing in while we wait, so he doesn't die."

"I won't . . . die," Rythian objected weakly, but Nano had already gone, hurrying off into the deeper recesses of the house.

"You didn't tell me she was a mad scientist, Lom," Panda said, peering at the computers. One of the monitors had a neat hole blasted right through it. The wall behind was scorched.

"She's not mad," said Lomadia. "Anyway, you liked her first."

"I wanted to _recruit_ her first," Panda corrected. "Everybody _liked_ her. Except Niles, I guess."

Nilesy didn't say anything. He was staring at the ruined monitor. There was something distinctly reminiscent of Dish Boy in his expression. Rythian was about to go to him when Zylus called him over.

"Rythian," he said. "Come shtand by thish thing until you shtop arcing."

"Huh?" said Rythian. Just turning around made his head spin. Another spark cracked through his lung and he winced from the pain.

"Come shtand over here," Zylus said, patiently gesturing to the dehumidifier. It was plugged in now, whirring away. The water tank had been dumped out before they left the flat, and the machine was running swimmingly.

"Oh," said Rythian. He glanced at Nilesy. "Right."

"He'll be fine," Zylus said. "He can come shtand over here, too."

With a fair amount of effort, Rythian forced his feet to move. They shuffled him over to the wall, and he sat down next to the dehumidifier. Another spark cracked through his lung, right up at the top, and he coughed. The taste of blood was stronger now, heavy on the back of his tongue.

"Not a moment too fucking shoon," Zylus muttered. He went and retrieved Nilesy, who allowed himself to be led about without putting up any resistance or making any comment. Zylus sat him down on the other side of the dehumidifier, fussed over him for a bit, then went to the kitchen. After a moment, there was the distinctive sound of a kettle being put on.

"And anyway," Panda was saying, "what's anybody need this many computers for, anyway?"

"Science, probably," said Lomadia, shrugging.

"Look, you can't just say _science_ to everything. There's got to be more to it than _science."_

"No there doesn't. Anyway, you could just ask her."

Zylus poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Who wantsh tea?" he asked.

There was a chorus of _me's._ Nilesy did not respond, keeping his eyes down and his mouth closed.

"I'll jusht shtart a pot," said Zylus. "Alsho: ish everybody okay with lentilsh and rishe for lunch? Ther'sh not much elshe here that hashn't gone bad."

"Sounds fantastic, thanks, Zy," said Panda.

"Yeah, thanks," said Lomadia.

Zylus shrugged. "Not like I have anything elshe to do." He ducked back into the kitchen.

Panda went over to the couch and considered it for a moment. He slung his backpack off his shoulder and dropped himself onto the couch.

"Holy _shit,"_ he exclaimed, his face lighting up. "It's so _comfy!_ Lom, Lom come sit on this couch."

Lomadia approached as though the couch might get up and run away. She petted its back, then climbed up onto it, her claws pressing divots into the upholstery but not piercing it.

"It's really nice," she agreed.

Panda let his head fall back and threw an arm over the arm of the couch. He wasn't quite tall enough to prop his feet up on the other arm, but he tried to do it anyway.

"Okay," he said. "We're keeping your mad-scientist girlfriend's furniture. Actually, why don't we just stay here for, y'know, ever? Nano said it was super safe, right? Steel lined and all that."

"But if there's lots of robots, they'll still be able to get in," Lomadia said. "We'll just know about them before they actually get in, because it'll make lots of noise. And we can't get out, either."

Panda scoffed. "I bet we—oh, shit, you know what, I've got to put my insulin in the fridge, hang on a sec."

He got up off the couch, snagging his backpack, and hurried off to the kitchen.

Nano came back then, tucking her phone in her pocket.

"All right," she sighed. "Zoey and Fiona are on their way over. Should be about an hour, depending on traffic. Rythian, think you'll be all right until then?"

Once again, he was snapped back to himself by the sound of his own name.

"What? Oh, um, yes. I should—that should be fine. Thank you."

She nodded. "Good. Anybody mind if I go take a shower?"

"There'sh going to be tea in a minute!" Zylus called from the kitchen.

Nano heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. "Why must you torment me like this?" she called back.

"Tea will get cold," Zylus said. There was a clanking of pots and pans. "Shower will shtill be there."

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" Nano demanded.

"Robbing you blind," said Zylus.

"You cheeky fuck," Nano said, and went into the kitchen. Lomadia looked down at Nilesy for a moment, then unfolded herself from the couch and followed, her talons clicking on the hardwood floor.

For a time, there was only the whirr of the dehumidifier and indistinct conversation from the kitchen. Rythian looked anywhere but at Nilesy.

"It's not a bad plan," Rythian said at last. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nilesy stiffen.

The dehumidifier whirred between the two of them. Tiny sparks were skittering in the bottom of Rythian's lungs, but they were more uncomfortable than painful. Mustering his courage, he spoke again.

"I know Nano said it was stupid, and . . . _I_ said it was stupid, but really, it's better than nothing," he said.

Nilesy did not respond. Rythian sighed, trying not to sound frustrated.

"Will you at least say _something?"_ he said.

"I'm going to get all of you killed," Nilesy mumbled.

"That's—not really . . . okay, I mean, I guess I kind of asked for that, but— _seriously?_ That's the best you have?"

Nilesy shrugged, keeping his eyes down.

"It's all there is," he said.

"No, it's not," said Rythian. "What happened to an hour ago? What happened to, _oh, it's foolproof, work like a charm, trust me, darling?"_

"That wasn't _me,"_ Nilesy said, his voice thin and hoarse. "It was—some _other_ me, I—he—" He broke off, shaking his head.

Rythian stared at him for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he searched around for words.

"Well," he said, unnerved and trying not to show it, "could we maybe . . . get that one back?"

Nilesy's head snapped up, his face full of mistrust and anger. Rythian raised his hands.

"Not that—it's just that, I feel like we have a better chance of surviving. With—if you're . . . more . . . whatever you were then."

"I don't get to pick," he said.

"You—sorry, what?"

"I don't get to pick," Nilesy repeated. "Who I am, when. It just . . . happens. Even if I don't want it to. Sometimes I can change if I really need to, but most of the time. . . ."

"Nilesy," Rythian said carefully, "how—how many . . . _yous_ . . . are there?"

Nilesy considered for a moment.

"At least three?" he said. "There's me, there's Liam, and—"

"And?" said Rythian.

Nilesy shrugged, averting his eyes.

"And there's the mask," he said quietly. "But it's not like—they're all _me,_ it's just . . . it's just a matter of what sorts of crazy are happening at the time. The names just make it neater."

"I think you, um," said Rythian. He scratched the back of his head. "I think you have to put five pounds in the jar, now."

Nilesy blinked twice. He looked up at Rythian and blinked again.

"It doesn't count when _I_ do it," he said. "I'm talking about _actually_ being crazy. It's not the same thing."

"You're not— _crazy,"_ said Rythian.

"Beg to differ," said Nilesy.

"But—" Rythian began.

"Well!" Panda said, swanning into the room and vaulting over the back of the couch. "That's all _that_ taken care of."

Neither Nilesy nor Rythian responded. Panda, lying on the couch with his feet up on the arm, raised his head to look at them. He frowned.

"What've you two been up to, then?" he asked.

"Um," said Rythian, his heart speeding up. He wiped his hands on his trousers, wondering how many knives Panda had within arm's reach. "Just—just talking?"

Panda watched him for a moment, then looked over at Nilesy. He frowned harder, then rolled off the couch and went to get his bag from its spot next to the door. He brought it back to the couch and started digging in it.

"I think I've got some of the blue left," he mentioned. "There's _probably_ enough time for it to dry before lunch. Niles, you feeling blue today?"

Nilesy did not answer. Panda glanced back at him, then returned to digging in his bag. He pulled out a handful of nail polish bottles in a rainbow of colors, and then another handful, and then a third. He spread them out and picked through them, holding the blue ones up for close examination.

"When did you have time to pack all of those?" Rythian asked.

"I had a spare two seconds lying about," Panda answered. "I kept them all in one place, it wasn't _hard._ Here we go, I think this is the one."

On his knees, he waddled across the carpet to sit cross-legged in front of Nilesy. He took one of Nilesy's hands and held it loosely, palm down. Nilesy glanced up at him, just briefly, and Panda smiled.

"This is the right one, yeah?" he asked, holding up the bottle of nail polish.

Nilesy glanced up again and nodded.

"Super," said Panda. He unscrewed the cap and set the bottle down between his legs, then set about painting Nilesy's nails a pale powder blue. He did it with his tongue between his teeth, eye narrowed. He paused each time he went to press the brush to Nilesy's fingernails, taking an extra second to line himself up properly. A little flicker of pain crossed his face every time.

"Nano says we can use her shower," Panda mentioned. "Though apparently there's not many places to sleep. I think she said she's got like, one air mattress, and there's the couch, and I guess someone'll be sleeping with her, either Zylus or Lom. Two of us could probably share the air mattress. I'm fine with that or the couch, whichever. Have you got a preference?"

Nilesy glanced at Rythian, just a quick flick of the eyes.

"No," he said.

"Well, if it's all the same to _you,_ I'm claiming you for the night," Panda went on. He set Nilesy's hand aside and took up the other one, starting in on his thumbnail. "It's definitely my turn by now. Really, it's _been_ my turn, but I guess things've been a bit busy. Or something."

Rythian looked down at his own hands, his skin hot.

"Darling," Nilesy began, pained.

"No, it's fine, I understand," said Panda, a little too lightly. "You do whatever makes you happiest, I guess."

Nilesy said nothing. For a time, there was silence.

"There we are!" Panda said brightly. "Try not to touch them for a bit."

"Thanks," Nilesy said, his voice hollow. Rythian busied himself counting the carpet fibers.

After a moment, Panda sighed heavily. There was a clinking of bottles.

"I think I've got a green that'd look really good on you," he said. "D'you like green?"

When no one answered, Rythian raised his eyes. Panda was looking over his shoulder at him, his one visible eyebrow raised.

"I—sorry, were you—talking to me?" he said.

"Yeah," said Panda. "Is green good? I want to do you and Niles a matched set. You'll have the colors of each other's eyes, it'll be disgusting. I think I've got the right sort of green."

He went back to digging through his nail polish, this time paying special attention to the greens.

Rythian looked over at Nilesy, hoping for some kind of direction, but he was just watching Panda, something between sadness and adoration tugging at his expression.

"I . . . um?" said Rythian, at a loss. "Green's—green is fine?"

"Super," said Panda. He held up a bottle of emerald green nail polish, turning it back and forth in the light. "This'll do."

Once again, he crossed the carpet on his knees, sitting himself in front of Rythian this time. He frowned and folded his arms.

"Now," he said. "How am I going to do this without zapping myself?"

"Um," said Rythian. "You could—I mean, most people just . . . put their feet on me. Or something."

"That'll work," said Panda. He scooted up and carefully touched his knees to Rythian's. That done, he held out a hand. Reluctantly, Rythian put his fingers in Panda's palm.

His hands were hot, the skin smooth despite layers of callouses and scars. This close, he smelled strongly of cocoa butter and a sort of sharp, hospital scent. With his free hand, he unscrewed the cap on the nail polish, wiped the brush on the mouth of the bottle, and held it over Rythian's thumb. He stuck his tongue between his teeth and brought the brush down, making quick, even strokes.

"You're . . . really good at this," Rythian said, at a loss for what else to say.

"Practice," said Panda. "I used to do my nails in rainbow all the time in high school. I wanted everybody to know how fucking gay I am. Like, all the time. Aggressively. Used to do _killer_ makeup too, but it got to be too much work once I got to university. And _way_ too expensive, ugh."

"That's . . . that's too bad," said Rythian. He was trying not to stare at the bandage over Panda's eye, but it was hard to keep his eyes off it. Some kind of yellow fluid had seeped through, making a darker speck on the outside of the cloth.

Panda shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It's probably a good thing I got out of the habit, otherwise I'd . . . y'know. Just be doing the one eye every morning, and that's just adding fucking insult to injury."

Swallowing, Rythian looked away.

"Other hand, please," said Panda. Rythian obliged, and Panda went on painting his nails.

"It's, um," said Rythian. "Can I—can I ask you a really stupid question?" he said.

"Oh, please do," said Panda, grinning.

"Don't you . . . hate me?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nilesy put his face in his hands.

Panda frowned. He paused in his painting, the brush hovering above Rythian's hand.

"I did," he said. "And I'm not going to act like I'm not still jealous. But _he_ likes you—" he tipped his head towards Nilesy— "and I like him, and . . . I guess you've had enough shit happen to you already. I haven't got to make it worse, really, have I."

"Oh," said Rythian. He fidgeted. "Thank—thank you. I guess."

Panda shrugged. "Yeah, whatever," he said.

He finished doing Rythian's nails, then got up and went into the kitchen. He returned with Lomadia and Nano in tow, and he did their nails, too. Not long after that, Zylus announced that tea and lunch were ready, and all of them squeezed themselves around the little table. Nano had to scrounge for chairs, and even so, she ended up sharing one with Panda, since they were the two smallest.

About halfway through the meal, there was a knock at the door, and shortly after, Nano's phone rang.

"Hey Zoey," she said, setting down her fork and getting to her feet. Everyone else had stopped eating, watching the door apprehensively. "That you?"

After a moment's pause, Nano went to the door and opened it. Zoey slipped in, and Fiona followed on her heels. Nano shut the door again quickly behind them. Zoey looked into the room, caught sight of Rythian, and was off like a shot. The next thing he knew, she was hugging him so tightly she might have cracked one of his ribs, her face buried in his chest. The cold, hard metal of her robotic arm dug painfully into his back.

"Oh, gosh," she said, muffled. "Oh, gosh, I'm so glad you're okay! I'm so so so glad you're okay, Rythian, I was so _worried_ about you, I haven't seen you in _ages_ and everything's been horrible and oh my goodness it's so good to see you again—"

Stunned and reeling, Rythian patted her back, at a loss for what else to do. Something had knotted up in his chest, choking his voice to silence, pushing tears up into his eyes. Zoey didn't let go of him, so he went ahead and squeezed her.

Nano cleared her throat. "Everyone," she said. "This is Fiona, and that's Zoey. They're Division. Well, I mean, as much as _I'm_ Division."

"Nobody's kicked us out yet," said Fiona.

"They helped me break you all out," said Nano. "Zoey, Fiona, this is Lomadia, Zylus, Panda, and Nilesy."

"Hi," said Lomadia. "I think there's enough food left, if you want some."

"Ooh, yes please," said Fiona. "I'll just grab myself a plate. Babe, you want anything?"

Zoey nodded, her face still pressed to Rythian's chest.

"'Kay," said Fiona, and went into the kitchen.

"Zoey?" Nano said. "Do you maybe want to talk to Zylus about Rythian's new mask?"

Zoey sniffled and pried her face away from Rythian. To his chagrin, she climbed up into his lap, snuggled in his arms like a puppy. Heat rose to his face, although he still couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, was still blinking back tears.

"Yeah, okay," she said. "Which—sorry, which one of you is Zylus?"

Zylus raised a hand and waved shyly. "Me," he said.

"Hiya, Zylus!" said Zoey. "Mmkay, so basically, what I did to make the first one—"

Zoey rattled on, and Fiona brought out two more plates of dinner. The evening progressed peacefully—the dehumidifier was disassembled, beds were claimed, good nights were said. Zoey and Zylus stayed up late, and because of the pain in his lungs, so did Rythian. He spent the time wandering around the house, down in the labs and upstairs, paging through memories. He found himself, somehow, standing outside Lalna's door, his hand on the doorknob.

"Um," said Zoey. Rythian nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, tucking his hand behind his back like he'd been stealing cookies from the cookie jar. Zoey was standing in the corridor, holding something in her hands—one flesh, one metal. Zylus was with her, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Christ," Rythian breathed, sagging. "You scared me."

"Sorry," said Zoey, her whole face contracting in pain. "Gosh, sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's—it's fine, Zoey," said Rythian. "Is the, um, is the mask done?"

"Mm," she said, nodding. "We wanted you to try it on. To, like, see if it works, 'cause if it doesn't we want to fix it before everything gets bad and we don't get another chance."

"I told her the plan," said Zylus.

"Fi and me are going to help," said Zoey.

"That—but won't that—" Rythian sputtered. A huge spark cracked through his lung, nearly doubling him over. The next thing he knew, Zoey was standing on his feet and slipping the mask over his head, the three fingers of her metal arm cold against his face. He recoiled, sucking in a breath. Zoey smiled up at him.

"How is it?" she asked. "Is it okay?"

It dug into his skin, and the elastic was too tight, and it was loud and clunky and ugly, but he could tell from the first breath that it was working. A few more sparks skittered in his lungs for one breath, two, three, but then they quieted down, fizzling into almost nothing.

"It's—it's good," he said, choked up again for no reason. "But—but Zoey—"

She shrugged. "Yeah, okay, so we'll probably get kicked out of YogLabs, but that's fine, honestly, 'cause like, they did horrible things to you and they tried to lock up Nano and they kidnapped Martyn and killed a _lot_ of people and honestly they're just awful, so I think it's probably good to get kicked out. It, like, means we're doing stuff right, right? We're doing the right thing. I'm sort of excited, actually. I get to actually use—ooh! Ooh! I forgot! I totally forgot to tell you! Rythian, Rythian, my arm's got a _grappling hook_ in it, oh my gosh, I'll finally get to use it, it'll be amazing, you'll have to watch and see, I'm so excited—"

Rythian looked over her bouncing head at Zylus.

 _Did you do this on purpose?_ he thought.

Zylus shrugged, pulling a wry smile.

"Nano made it for me, so I'm sure it's good—" Zoey was still chattering on, looking the arm over in wonder and delight.

 _If you get her killed,_ Rythian thought at Zylus, his fists clenching, _you're going to have to answer to me._

Zylus rolled his eyes and walked away.

"And—ooh—and it's got this—"

"Zoey," Rythian said, catching her by the shoulders. She looked up at him, bright and cheerful.

"Yeah?" she said.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to say, trying to find the right way to say them without crying.

"You don't have to get involved," he said. "You can—you can just stay . . . safe."

"Rythian," she said softly, putting her hand over his. "No. I can't. Sooner or later, it'd all go wrong. I'm Powered. Those robot things aren't going to leave me alone just because I'm Division. They never did."

She wiggled the fingers of her robot hand, smiling wryly.

"I can't ever be safe while they're around. So I'm going to make it better, mmkay? Better for me and for everybody. 'Cause I'm a hero, and that's what heroes do."

"But—" said Rythian.

"Shush," said Zoey. "It's going to be okay, Rythian. We're going to make it be okay."

Wordless, he hugged her, letting the tears slip down his cheeks. They slid around the edges of the mask and dripped off his chin, landing cold on his own wrist.

"Zoey," he said brokenly.

"Mm," she said, and hugged him back.

 


	53. Chapter 52

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"Um," said Panda.

Nano looked up from her computer. She was sitting on her bed, her back propped against the wall. Most of the others were out in the main room having breakfast—since she'd gotten up earlier than all of them and eaten already, she was taking the time to have a little bit of peace and quiet.

Panda was standing in her doorway, rubbing his arm, gaze on the floor. He was still in his pajamas, barefoot, his hair tousled.

"Um," he said again, glancing up at her. "Have you got a minute?"

She closed her computer and set it aside, turning to set her feet on the floor and face him.

"A few," she said. "What's up?"

He glanced behind himself, then stepped in and shut the door.

"You, um, you know . . . stuff. About YogLabs. Right? Like—what they're doing, and stuff. Right?"

Something squeezed in her chest. "Not as much as I thought I did," she said.

Panda shook his head. "But like. Just . . . in general. The kinds of things they're doing. _Can_ do. Stuff like that."

"I guess?" she said. "Why?"

He took a deep breath. There were tears welling in his eye.

"Just—just, when I was there, they—I mean, they said—they said they could— _cure_ me," he said, and his voice cracked. "And I just—I didn't believe them, because of course they were lying, but—but . . . I can't stop thinking about it. Like—like what if that was my _one chance_ to be—to be _well_ and I just . . . chucked it out because. . . . I just need to know. Could they . . . could they have done it?"

Nano watched him for a long moment, her chest aching, trying to find the right words to say.

"Panda, I. . . ." she began, and broke off. She heaved a long sigh. "I don't think they were talking about your diabetes."

He looked up at her sharply, and a tear spilled down his cheek. "But then—but what else—"

"Your Powers," she said gently. "I think they meant taking away your Powers. Like Xephos was talking about _fixing_ Nilesy. I'm . . . I'm sorry."

Panda bowed his head, hugging himself. He shrugged, sniffling.

"Yeah," he said. "No, makes sense. I guess I just thought—I mean, if anybody could do it, I thought. . . . But I guess the greatest minds in the world would rather be building guns, right?"

A pang shot through Nano's heart. She got to her feet and crossed to him, touched his shoulder.

"People are working on it, Panda," she said.

"Yeah, and they have been for _how_ long now?" he snapped, shrugging her hand off. "What, like, a hundred and fifty years? People always say they're going to find a cure, but— _where is it?_ How many people have _died_ waiting about for—"

He broke off, turning his face away as another tear slid down his cheek. Nano let her hand fall back to her side.

"Even if we win," he said quietly. "Even if we destroy all the robots and everybody lives and YogLabs comes crashing down at our feet and we're the shining heroes of the new fucking world, _I'll still be sick._ Even if we get everything we ever hoped for, I still lose. Even if we make everything else better, _I_ won't be. It's not—it's not _fair._ It's not . . . fucking _fair."_

"I'm sorry," she said, because there was nothing else she could say. "Have you . . . sorry, I'm just going to be a bit of a dick here. Have you checked your blood sugar lately?"

"Oh, fuck _off,"_ he said, rounding on her. "Every time I feel _anything,_ it's always, _oh, Panda, have you checked your sugar?_ Like I don't feel fucking _anything_ without it being this stupid fucking sickness, like it's—like it's all there is! Like I'm not—like I'm not even _here. . . ."_

His voice went quiet, strangled off in a pained squeak. He wiped the tears from his face, scowling and rough. Nano said nothing, not wanting to make it worse and having no idea how to make it any better. Panda sniffled and turned away again.

"I always knew I was going to go blind sooner or later," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Loads of people do. One too many highs and it's gone. Just thought I'd have a few more decades before it happened. But I guess the universe couldn't fucking wait. Like it hasn't taken enough things from me already. Guess I should be fucking grateful I've still got the one. For now."

Nano folded her arms and sighed.

"I was thirteen," she said. "When I lost mine."

Panda looked up at her, frowning. "Your what?"

"Eye," she said. She pointed to her milky right eye. "Totally blind. I was fucking _furious._ For . . . _years_ afterwards. One stupid little mistake with a stupid bar of soap, and I'd ruined my fucking life. I was half blind, hideously disfigured—"

"You are _not,"_ Panda interrupted.

"I was thirteen," she said gently. "It felt like it. But afterwards, I mean—I've still got _three_ PhD's. _Three,_ which is just excessive, if I'm honest. I was still the first woman in the Division, which—okay, turned out to not be as great as it was supposed to be, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard to get there. I'm—I was basically a superhero. And a brilliant scientist, and I got to . . . I got to baby-sit the world's first sentient robot, and make all _sorts_ of cool things, and . . . I'm still half blind and disfigured. And it hasn't really ruined anything. I just have to be a bit more careful with depth-perception stuff, and it's got to the point where I do it so much that I hardly notice anymore. And, yeah, sometimes people stare, and sometimes it still hurts when they do, but—fuck it, I'm better than all of them put together."

Panda sniffled and wiped his nose. "So—why are you telling me this?"

"I guess I just—I wanted you to know that, at least with the eye thing . . . you can be okay again. If you want to. You don't have to be, but you can."

He looked down and swallowed, wiped his nose again.

"I . . . probably _should_ check my sugar, actually," he said. He turned away and opened the door, but paused on the threshold. "Um. Thank you."

"Anytime," she said gently.

The corner of his mouth turned up. He leaned a shoulder on the doorframe.

"And I guess, like, I could get an eyepatch or something. Like a pirate. That'd be really cool, right?"

"Oh, totally," said Nano. "Boys'll love it. And chicks, if you're into them. And everybody else, probably. Who doesn't love an eyepatch?"

Panda shook his head. Once again, he started to go and paused. He looked up at her, shy and nervous and suddenly very young underneath all the scars and bandages.

"Um," he said. "Do you—d'you think _Nilesy_ will like it?"

Nano took a slow breath, once again finding the right words to say.

"I think," she said, "he'd adore anything you did, just because it's you."

There was a sudden blur, and Panda cannoned into her, hugging her tightly, his face buried in her shoulder. After only a moment's pause to absorb the shock, she hugged him back. They stood like that for the space of three breaths, Panda crying softly.

He sniffled. "I'm . . . sorry I threatened to knock out all your teeth and stab you in the throat," he mumbled.

She patted his back. "I'm sorry I ruined your life," she said.

There was another pause. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet.

"And I'm sorry about Lalna," he said.

Nano held him for a moment, while the pain of those words rang through her insides, resonating longer now that she was here in this space where Lalna's absence was so profound, where the wound felt so much fresher.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Panda released her and stepped back. He wiped his nose again, sniffling.

"Yeah, I should—I should really go check my sugar," he said. "Um. Thank you. Again. For . . . everything."

"Seriously," she said, "anytime."

He nodded, and flashed a smile, and punched her lightly in the arm before taking his leave.

Nano took a deep breath, teeth clenched, chest aching. When she had pulled herself together sufficiently, she rejoined the others in the main room, doing her best to pretend the conversation hadn't happened at all.

* * *

 

The vast majority of the day was spent finding ways to entertain themselves. Zylus, being the least remarkable out of all of them, went out to buy supplies. Nano told him to stop off at the first international bank he ran across, open an account with them, and text her the account number. As soon as it was done, she transferred everything in her personal account to Zylus's new one, before YogLabs got the brilliant idea to freeze all of her assets and left all of them penniless. It wasn't a secure measure, and she was sure they would get around to cutting off her funds eventually, but she was going to make it as difficult for them as possible. Better measures could be taken when they had a little more time.

Once that was done, though, there wasn't much else to do. They were confined to the steel-lined walls, remaining indoors for the sake of safety. Panda and Nilesy picked through her movie collection, choosing all the worst ones and ridiculing them mercilessly. Rythian, after a very awkward exchange, was allowed to nap on Nano's bed for as long as he liked. Zoey and Fiona initially entertained themselves on the internet before joining in on Panda and Nilesy's bad-movie marathon, going so far as to make snacks for the four of them out of the limited supplies in the kitchen.

This left Nano and Lomadia, much to Nano's surprise. She was sitting at the computer, dismally clicking through the news in search of headlines about YogLabs' activities and listening to the disparaging commentary from the other side of the room, when she noticed the other woman at her shoulder. She peeled her chin off her hand and sat up a little straighter.

"Hey," she said. "Thought you were in on the whole movie mocking party."

Lomadia made a face. "They're too loud," she said. "It hurts my ears."

Right on cue, a raucous yell burst up from the other side of the room, wreathed in laughter. Lomadia winced.

"Ah," said Nano. "Yeah, I can see how that'd be unpleasant. What, um . . . so what's up?"

Lomadia shrugged her wings. "I'm bored," she said.

"Right," said Nano. She frowned, looking at the computer screen, scrolling down absently.

 _Six Dead in Latest YogLabs Android Sting,_ said an article, two days old. Nano turned away from her computer again and got up.

"I could give you a tour, if you want," she said. "Of the labs and everything."

Lomadia's wings fluffed out. "That'd be cool," she said. "Is there lots of science stuff?"

"Oh, _loads,"_ said Nano, heading for the basement door. "I'll be honest, I've barely used most of it, but it's nice to have anyway. All the cool toys and everything. It's basically just bragging rights at this point."

"Will you tell me what all of it does?" Lomadia asked. She ducked through the door to the basement, keeping her wings pinned close to her back.

"Sure," said Nano. "I like explaining all the machinery. Makes me feel smart. I barely ever get to do it, either, so it's doubly good."

She led Lomadia into the labs, watching her eyes go wide with wonder. She took her through the hydrodynamics lab, explaining the tanks and reactors, the pipes and the instruments. Then it was the robotics lab, with its banks of computers and shelves upon shelves of parts, miles of wiring wrapped up in neat coils on the walls. She showed off some of her earlier projects, both professional and hobby, running them through their paces while Lomadia watched in rapt delight.

Next she showcased the chemistry lab, full to brimming with a multitude of apparatuses from ovens to freeze-driers, from centrifuges to sonicators to seven different kinds of aqueous probe. She talked in detail about the various chemicals occupying every last inch of free horizontal space, the ingredients and the old experiments, the tedium of dissolution and the joy of properly accomplished synthesis. Afterwards they went over to the analysis room, with its array of microscopes and spectrometers, and she slotted a sample into the long-disused electron microscope, pumped down the vacuum with the last of the liquid nitrogen and let Lomadia scroll about at the micron scale on one of her synthetic polymers.

"You do this for a job?" Lomadia asked, following a long strand of polymer as it wound over the carbon mesh. The images were all displayed on a computer screen, jerky and grainy and grayscale.

"Pretty much, yeah," said Nano. She leaned up against the table and folded her arms. The whirr of the car-sized microscope was lulling, a sound she'd been away from for too long. It reminded her of simpler times, or at least of safer ones. "There were a lot of meetings, too."

"It's amazing," said Lomadia.

"Sometimes," said Nano. "When it's not _mind-numbingly_ boring. You're having fun now, but try doing just that for, like, five hours at a time. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack made of other needles. Swear to God."

"You must really love it," Lomadia said, regarding Nano with nothing short of admiration.

"I—well," said Nano, unbalanced by the frank sincerity of the comment. "I—I guess I do. Yeah."

"So when all this is over, you're going to come back to it, right?"

Nano's throat squeezed shut. She had to look away, blinking sudden tears from her eyes.

"I _want_ to," she said. "But—I don't know if that's . . . possible. I—hell, I don't know if _any_ of us are going to even _survive_ this."

"We will," said Lomadia, as though it was a foregone conclusion. "And then you'll do more science stuff. What sorts of stuff are you going to do?"

"I don't—Lom, that's not—I don't think that's really . . . _important."_

"Of course it's important," said Lomadia. "You love it."

"We could all be dead in a week!" Nano cried.

Lomadia shrugged. "So? What if we _don't_ die in a week? You won't have anything to do."

Nano stared at her, at a loss for words. Eventually, she just crossed the space between them and hugged Lomadia tightly, barely having to stoop even though the other woman was sitting down.

"I think I might love you," she mumbled.

"Oh, good," said Lomadia, folding her wings around the two of them. "Because I was thinking for a while now that I probably love you, only I didn't want to say it first."

Nano laughed, squeezing her. She smelled of dust and old books and sky, and she was warm as the coals from a spent fire. For a moment, all of Nano's empty spaces filled up, leaving her brimming with affection.

"I love you," she whispered.

Lomadia kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, too," she said. "We'll be okay. It'll all be okay."

Just then, surrounded by the warm hum of the microscope and the soft shelter of Lomadia's wings, Nano believed her.

* * *

 

The next day passed in a haze, the kind of frantic waiting that usually happened at airports and train stations. There was either too much to do or nothing at all, activity coming in fits and spurts that left Nano alternately frazzled and bored out of her skull. There were earpieces to be assembled and tested, maps and tactics to be pored over a million times, calculations to be made, assurances to be given. There were also hours spent doing nothing at all while other people worked. She'd banned herself from the computer, preferring to let Fiona monitor the news sites for any word of YogLabs' doings. There had been reports of Xephos's death, and brief mentions of _the android program,_ one of which hinted at multiple robots, but nothing concrete, nothing definitive. The murder was painted as an industrial accident, and it was only said that _investigations are ongoing._

"I don't like it," Nano said, curled up in one of the dining room chairs while Fiona read her the latest article. "They should be trying to kill us. They should be _furious._ Where's the manhunt? Where's the disproportionate militarized response? Why aren't they after us?"

"Maybe we should just . . . not look a gift horse in the mouth," said Fiona. "The longer people _aren't_ trying to kill us, the happier I am."

"But _why aren't they?"_ Nano pressed. "There's got to be a reason. What do they _want_ us for? What's the advantage in not hunting us down? Are they just—trying to save face, or something? Trying to seem like they've got everything under control? It _can't_ be just that, they're all about scaring people into compliance, they'd _love_ an opportunity to put our heads on pikes."

"Unless they don't think they can beat us," said Fiona.

"The _Board?_ They're a pack of egotistical megalomaniacs, there's _nobody_ they don't think they can beat."

"Yeah, but . . . I mean, Xephos was on the Board, and he's dead now. Maybe they're being a bit more careful now."

"I don't buy it," said Nano. "Somebody's up to something. They _want_ us alive. They're getting something out of this, you mark my words."

Fiona considered, frowning at the monitor.

"Maybe _they_ wanted Xephos dead, too," she said. "I wouldn't blame them, honestly."

"That—is not impossible," said Nano. "But _still!_ They must know we're after more than just him. They _must_ know he wasn't the endgame. They _must_ know they're next. So why aren't they stopping us? I feel like we're walking into a trap. I don't like it."

Fiona let out a low growl and shook herself. A wave of coarse dark hair rose up out of her skin and settled down again, following the shiver through her.

"So what do we do about it?" she asked. "Sit about waiting to be killed?"

 _"No,"_ said Nano. "I think we're doing the best we can. I just don't _like_ it."

"Nobody _likes_ it," said Fiona. "Just I think most of us are worried about the bit where we have to fight a shitload of killer robots, instead of worrying about the YogLabs shadow council or whatever."

Nano paused, a thought plinking through her brain like a glass marble.

"D'you know," she mused. "Maybe that's it. Maybe it's the robots. I can't imagine anybody at YogLabs wants to go up against them, Board or no. Maybe we're the cleanup crew."

"Why would they want the robots gone, though?" Fiona asked. "They're like, super-weapons."

"Why would they want Xephos dead?" Nano returned. "Who knows why the Board does _anything,_ honestly. Everything's gone mad, maybe—I dunno, maybe Lalnable's thrown a wrench into whatever shit they had going on and now they have to be got rid of. Lalna—I mean, Lalna never took orders very well. Maybe Lalnable doesn't, either. Only Lalnable's got . . . however many killer robots backing them up, so maybe the Board's not been too insistent. I've got no idea how much of what YogLabs has done has been Xephos's idea. I just . . . sort of assumed he was pulling the strings for everything he was involved in."

"Yeah," said Fiona. "But . . . I sort of think you're overthinking this? Like, we've got enough to worry about as-is. Honestly. We can probably save the worrying about _why_ and _how_ until after we've fought the however-many killer robots."

Nano sighed, rubbing her face. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, no, you're right. Sorry. I just—haven't got anything else to do right now. Other than worry."

Fiona nodded. "I know the feeling," she said. "I feel . . . pretty useless, honestly. It's not that I don't think I can help, it's just . . . I dunno what a bear's going to do against a killer robot. More than one killer robot, actually, but even one, I don't know what I'd do."

"Ripping them limb from limb is generally useful," Nano said dryly. "Take the arms off and they've got no weapons, take the legs and they've got no flight."

"Good to know," said Fiona. "I'll try not to get shot before I can get that close."

Nano was quiet for a moment, fighting with herself.

"Fiona?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For helping. Even though you don't have to, even though I—I totally dragged you and Zoey into this, even though it's not really your fight—"

"Not my fight?" Fiona interrupted. "How is it _not my fight?_ Xephos and his robots and all of YogLabs are murdering Powered people in the fucking streets. I dunno if you'd noticed, but _I'm_ a Powered people. So's my girlfriend. So are half my friends. So's my dad. This was never _not my fight._ I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do against a bunch of killer robots, but nobody on this goddamn planet is going to stop me from _trying."_

Nano stared at her, gawping stupidly. After a moment, she managed to close her mouth.

"You're—absolutely right," said Nano. "Sorry I—yeah. Sorry."

Fiona shrugged and let out an ursine snort.

"Thanks," she said. "And hey, if we survive this, you can tell me all your conspiracy theories and I'll go _ooh, ahh_ at all the right bits."

Despite herself, Nano laughed.

"Deal," she said.

 


	54. Chapter 53

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

"This feels familiar," Nano remarked, folding her arms and side-eying Nilesy.

He wrapped his hand around the central spire of the tallest skyscraper downtown and leaned away, hanging off of it at a jaunty angle. He was not wearing the mask, and his little smile was insincere.

"Nearly," he said. "We're missing someone, I think."

On his other side, Rythian reached up and fiddled with his new mask. It didn't seem to fit him very well, and she was certain it was uncomfortable, but at least he wasn't wincing every six seconds and coughing up blood.

"Not for very long, if you're right about this," said Nano.

He grinned. "Lalnable's smart. They'll know they've got a better chance if they send _all_ of their little drones to take on _all_ of us. One by one is stupid, and they're not stupid. Are they, Dr. Sounds?"

"No," she said. "Which is why they're not going to send _all_ of their drones. And they're not going to show up personally, either."

"Well, that's what we've got Zylus for," said Nilesy. He reached up his free hand and touched his earpiece. "Doing all right, Zylus darling?"

After a moment, the radio in Nano's ear crackled to life. Of the company, only Rythian didn't have one, since he would have shorted it out instantly anyway.

_"No,"_ came Zylus's voice, staticky and annoyed. _"I'm fucking terrified."_

"Oh, you'll be _fine,_ darling," said Nilesy. "How're you getting along, then?"

_"Waiting outshide the main gate for a car to come through. Any shign of the bashtardsh on your end?"_

"None yet," said Nilesy. "I'm sure they'll be along presently."

A shadow crossed the building as Lomadia circled above, the silhouette of her wings blotting out the hazy sun for an instant.

_"I don't see any of them,"_ she said, her voice clear and close in the radio. _"Maybe they aren't coming."_

_"Nothing down here, either,"_ said Panda. They'd dropped him off at the bottom of the building. On his supply run, Zylus had gotten him a black eyepatch, which he was wearing with a little more pride than the bandages that had come before it.

"They'll be along," Nilesy said again. "Honestly, it's _fine."_

"Do they—it's just that—do they even know we're here?" Rythian asked.

"We're not exactly inconspicuous," said Nano.

Nilesy grinned again. "No, I think he's right." He touched his earpiece again. "Everyone up for a bit of a show?"

_"Nileshy,"_ Zylus warned.

_"Uh-oh,"_ said Panda.

_"Um?"_ said Zoey. She and Fiona were each stationed about a block south of the main skyscraper, one block apart. _"Sorry, um? Why is everybody worried now? Is there something to be worried about?"_

_"It's okay, babe,"_ said Fiona, reassuring. _"I don't think we've got to worry."_

_"Going in,"_ Zylus said suddenly. _"If you don't hear from me again, it'sh becaushe I'm dead. Good luck, you fucking idiotsh."_

"Good luck," Nano said. There was a chorus of similar well-wishes in her ear, and then a moment of silence. She turned to Nilesy and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

He held up a finger. "Hang on," he said. "I'm thinking of the best way to go about this. What d'you think sends the best sort of _come at me, bro_ message? Wait, no, I've got it. Hang onto your socks, folks."

Nano took a judicious step back from him. He raised a hand, still hanging off the spire, his face going hard with concentration. His hand tensed, the fingers curled in, his arm began to tremble as though with exertion.

Down below, every last fire hydrant in sight burst forth a geyser of water, flinging the cast-iron covers ten meters into the air, at least. There was a series of resounding _cracks_ as they impacted the pavement, crashes and wailing alarms as they came down on cars, screams from pedestrians. Like a kicked anthill, the city below began to swarm.

"Think that'll do it?" Nilesy asked, somewhat breathless.

_"Fucking hell, Niles, one of those things almost fucking_ _hit_ _me!"_ Panda cried.

"Sorry, darling," said Nilesy, his tone more amused than apologetic.

_"A little warning would be nice next time!"_

"Of course, darling," said Nilesy. He was looking out to the south, towards YogLabs. A few long seconds passed in silence. Nano fidgeted.

"Now what?" she asked.

Nilesy grinned. "Now, we wait," he said.

Again, there were a few seconds of silence.

_"Ten pounds says five minutes,"_ Lomadia said over the earpiece.

_"Going straight to ten? Fuck it, ten on two minutes,"_ said Panda.

"Minute and a half," Nilesy said, "and not a moment later."

"What the _fuck_ are you all on about?" Nano demanded.

"Just taking bets, darling," said Nilesy. "It's tradition. Pity Zylus isn't on, because it's also tradition that he always fucking wins, the bastard."

_"Don't_ call me _darling,"_ said Nano, threatening him with a finger.

He turned a starry grin on her. "I could think of a few other names, _my little mouse,"_ he said, gleeful.

"Oh, _really?"_ said Nano. "Is this _really_ how you want to die?"

"Being as fucking annoying as possible? Yeah, I think so." He raised his eyes and all the merriment left his face, like a light being clicked off. "Ah. _Ex_ -cellent."

"What?" said Nano, turning to look behind her. Six silver sparks were rising from the south, blue flame at their heels.

"I've just won," said Nilesy. "Lom, Panda, I'm expecting the both of you to survive this so you can cough up the twenty pounds you owe me. I'll accept it thrown on my grave, if need be, but you're paying up either way."

"You're _not_ going to die," Rythian said, sharp with conviction.

"Not for lack of trying," Nilesy replied easily. "Now go to your spot, darling."

Rythian glared at him for a moment before scuttling off down the sloping roof of the building, making for the edge.

"Just six," Nano muttered to herself, shading her eyes against the morning sun. "Just six, okay. Yeah. No problem. Six of them, six of us, no contest."

The sparks were closer now, streaking towards them at speeds Panda would envy. She could make out the red of their eyes, the sleek shapes of their unclothed bodies. There was less than a minute left before they closed on the building. She felt herself lift into the air, her Powers boosting her into flight without consulting her brain. Her hands were prickling as acid slime oozed from her pores.

"Nilesy?" she said, her voice shaking.

"Yes, Dr. Sounds?" he said.

"If you've got us all killed, I'm going to find you in Hell and kick the absolute living _shit_ out of you." She looked back over her shoulder at him. "And it's _Nano,_ thanks."

Without waiting for a response, she sped off towards the robots, her blood singing in her veins. A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up to see Lomadia pacing her, wings slicing through the air in silence, her attention fixed straight ahead. Something zipped past below her, a black-and-white blur streaking out ahead of them through the city streets.

_"How close d'you need 'em, Niles?"_ Panda asked in her ear, his voice coming out hyperactive-quick, wind blowing static through the radio.

_"Close as you can, please,"_ said Nilesy.

_"Gotcha,"_ said Panda. _"Nobody get under them, I'm about to start throwing shit."_

_"Fi and me are on the way,"_ said Zoey.

Up ahead, one of the drones stopped in the air, its head snapping down towards the ground. It raised a hand, and something black and spinning flicked past its head. It fired.

The rest of the drones halted soon after, scattered in the sky. One took aim at Nano, holding steady in the air, its impassive face and goggle eyes pointed right at her. She sped up, watching the cherry glow rise beneath the palm of the thing's hand.

She slammed into the robot with all the momentum of her flight, shoulder-first, knocking it back in the air. The shot fired off with a _pop,_ so close to her ear that it singed her hair, and she grappled onto the robot's arm, pouring Power into her hands, trying to melt through its wrist before it could fire another shot. She heard the other MALaR priming and shoved the robot back, going into a steep dive. There was another _pop,_ and a flash of blinding light, and a patch of the street far below her was suddenly blackened and smoking. Pedestrians, already in a panic from the gushing hydrants, scattered from the spot. Nano swerved around a corner, put a building between the robot and herself before it could fire again.

Barreling down the quickly emptying street below, shaggy hide rippling with its stride, there came a huge brown bear. Zoey was sitting on its back, the fingers of her mechanical arm tangled in its fur, her other hand upraised. Light bloomed in her palm and then shot off into the sky. Nano did not pause to see if the shot had made contact. She could hear the roar of flight boosters behind her and knew that one of the drones must have followed her.

Turning on a dime, Nano reversed the direction of her flight and hurled herself back the way she had come. She cannoned right into the drone as it rounded the corner, knocking her own breath out and sending a lance of pain shooting through her shoulder. She plummeted towards the ground, pressing her acidified hands to any part of the robot she could reach, kicking and snarling, listening to the roar and pop and whine of the robot trying to gather itself to murder her. The world spun around her, dizzying and blurred, and there was singeing heat on the back of her neck and she shoved the robot as hard as she could.

The laser fired off half an inch from the tip of her nose, streaking past her face in a blinding flash. Vision filled with spots, Nano shot off along the ground, less than a foot above it, only able to see out of her peripheral vision. Once again she rounded a corner, then angled herself up and shot towards the sky as fast as she could.

_"Nano! One coming from overhead!"_ Panda said in her earpiece. Nano halted her ascent immediately and flattened herself against the building. An instant later, Lomadia soared over the building.

Nano shoved herself away from the concrete and glass and poured as much Power as she could into her feet, zooming upwards so fast her vision blurred. Another drone shot by overhead, in hot pursuit of Lomadia. Nano reached up and caught it by the ankle. Its speed nearly tore her arm out of its socket, but her momentum yanked the thing off-balance, throwing off its course and drawing its attention away from Lomadia. It turned and fired on her, and the laser blast scorched her shoulders, burning the fabric of her flight suit. She spun in the air and let go, flinging the robot away.

The drone's flight boosters roared, and it pinwheeled its arms for a moment before catching its balance. Its head snapped up to stare right at Nano.

When its arm came up, though, it was pointed at Nilesy's skyscraper. The shot fired off before Nano could do anything about it, and the robot's head turned to follow it. Its other arm came up primed and whining.

Suddenly, a tendril of water flooded up and wrapped around the robot's arm, hauling it aside before it could fire. The robot looked down at the water and fired into it, vaporizing its connection to the host body and leaving it useless. It turned its aim back to the skyscraper. Nano sped towards it, praying it hadn't already killed Rythian. Something silver flashed up from below and struck the drone in the arm. The shot went wide, the hilt of a knife protruding from the robot's elbow.

_"What fucking part of_ _take out the guns_ _didn't get across?"_ Nilesy snapped in her ear.

_"It'snotaseasyasyoumakeitsound!"_ Panda retorted. He was talking so fast he was almost unintelligible.

Another tendril of water lashed up from below and caught the robot by its other arm. Once again, it shot through the water before anything useful could be done. Once again it took aim at Nilesy. Nano slammed into it, both feet in its chest, just before the shot fired off. The robot turned its attention to her and she grabbed its wrist, trying again to melt through the casing and disable the weapon beneath, but the other MALaR was primed and scorching the back of her neck before she could make any significant headway, and she had to flee before her head was blown off. This time, though, she caught the robot by the ankle as she dove and dragged it down with her, burning through its titanium plates as much as she could. The surprise bought her an extra second, with which she flung the thing at the ground as hard as she could. It cracked into the pavement and Fiona leapt upon it with a roar. Zoey was no longer on her back, and she moved faster than seemed possible for something so massive. She tore one of its arms clean off, wrenching it free with her jaws, one massive paw planted in the robot's chest.

The robot's other arm pressed its palm up under her chin.

Nano moved so fast she must have broken the sound barrier. She cannoned into Fiona with all the strength of her little body. It was like a baseball hitting a mattress, but she hit right on the shoulder joint and managed to unbalance Fiona _just_ enough that the laser shot missed going clean through her brainstem.

Instead, it ripped through her cheek, skinning her jaw to the bone and vaporizing her right ear. Fiona let out a guttural roar, staggering back from the impact and the shot, shaking her head, spattering blood all over the ground. The robot was already back on its feet, already lining up another shot at her head, and Nano was disoriented and aching from the speed and the collision and the blood everywhere.

A tendril of water swatted the robot like a fly, sending it careening across the street to slam into a building in a shower of broken glass. The water tried to snatch the robot by its arm, yank the second weapon off, but the robot shot the tendril into so much steam before it could even get close.

Nano swooped down towards Fiona, but the bear snarled at her, swatted at her with huge claws, backing up against the buildings. Another laser shot exploded against the pavement at Fiona's feet, and Nano turned to see another drone aiming down at her with both hands. She sped off, drawing its fire, praying that Fiona would make it on her own, that she could get somewhere safe. The drone followed her, flying in fits and spurts as it tried to maintain optimal range without getting too close.

From below, something gray shot up with incredible speed and lanced into the robot's abdomen. Nano looked back to see a long, thin cable tracking all the way back down to the ground, where Zoey was doggedly clutching her own robotic arm and the grappling hook just fired from it, being dragged along on her heels by the drone's flight. Nano sped off, and she heard the _zzzap_ of breaking circuitry behind her, accompanied by a sunbeam flash of light.

_"It's not going to work,"_ Nilesy said suddenly in her ear. _"They're too fast. Give me one minute, and when I tell you to move, get above or inside a building."_

Nano glanced at the skyscraper. The black dot of Nilesy was tearing down towards the edge of the building. Nano didn't bother questioning. There was already another drone tracking her, lining up a shot. She ducked around a building, pressing a finger to her earpiece.

"Got it," she said.

_"Okay,"_ said Lomadia. She swooped suddenly from the sky at the drone that was focused on Nano. It just barely dodged her, then chased off after her as she dove.

There was a quick scramble of sound, reminiscent of Panda's voice. There might have been words in it, but it went by too quickly to be intelligible.

_"Gotcha!"_ said Zoey, breathless, her voice cracking.

One minute. They just had to survive one minute. From the midst of the chaos, it seemed like an eternity.

Nano took a breath and sped off around the building again, looking for the place she could be the most use. The one-armed drone was hovering a few dozen meters from her, firing steadily down. Panda was zig-zagging through the streets, like a motorcycle in a high-speed chase. Something flicked from his hands, spinning up at the robot with incredible speed. It missed, but distracted the drone for just an instant. Nano swooped in, grabbing the thing's neck from behind and forcing Power into her hands, the stench of melting metal thick in her nose. The robot reached back over its head, MALaR whining, and she dropped the thing on the instant. The laser shot popped over her head as she plummeted from the sky, having ceased flying entirely. She grabbed the robot's ankles as she went past. She only managed to yank it a few feet down, but one of its ankles was already scarred from her acid slime, and after a moment more its flight booster sputtered and died.

The thing went into a spiral, and Nano dropped it, speeding away. It fired wildly at her. One of the shots clipped her arm and left a stinging line of pain all the way from her elbow to her shoulder, searing the skin and charring the suit. As she fled, she saw Lomadia swoop from the sky.

Lomadia went right past the robot, into the street, and snatched Panda up from the ground. Wings laboring, she began to carry him up and up, towards the roofs of the tall buildings. Another drone was lining up a shot on her, and the one with the broken flight booster was quickly learning to compensate. Nano kicked the damaged one in the head on the way by, throwing off its balance and sending it tumbling down another five meters.

Down below, in the streets, water was rushing up from everywhere—gushing from the storm drains, bubbling out of manholes, flooding from doorways and windows, streaming down the streets from the direction of the river. With every passing second it grew deeper on the ground, rising and rising, implacable and opaque. Foam eddied around the corners of buildings and in the centers of intersections, debris bobbed and tumbled in the tide.

The second drone noticed Nano long before she got to it, turned one of its MALaRs on her and fired the other at Lomadia. Nano heard a distant, pained cry, and her vision went red with fury.

There was a flash of brilliant light, and the arm aimed at Nano suddenly vanished in a puff of smoke. The robot turned its head and swung its remaining arm down. Nano followed its aim, still rushing towards it.

Zoey, standing knee-deep in the water below, let loose another brilliant flash of light. The robot jerked to one side and the shot missed, but Nano cannoned into the thing a moment later, sending it careening back to slam into a building. The arm snapped up to aim at her before the glass had even stopped cracking. She grabbed the wrist and shoved it aside, and the robot lifted its legs, turning its flaming heels upon her. She screamed and tumbled back, her knees blistered by the heat. The robot came after her, and she fled. Another drone whizzed past, going the other direction, and a beam of light took its head clean off. It did not so much as pause.

Nano pushed herself upward, towards the rooftops, dodging around buildings as the drone behind her fired shot after shot at her back, each one too close for comfort. Lomadia was nowhere to be seen, the streets were three feet deep in water, there was a roaring in her ears and a weakness in her limbs and cotton in her head. The drone behind her was improving its aim, shot by shot, and it was gaining on her.

In her ear, murmur-quiet and strained, there was a voice.

_"Move,"_ said Nilesy.

Nano dove for the nearest building, flinging herself onto the roof. The drone following her shot up above the edge of the building. It paused a moment, sighted on her, stuck out its arm and aimed for her head—

There was a single heartbeat tremor that ran through the roof beneath her. The water far below shivered, as though a giant had taken a single step upon the fragile earth. For an instant, there was a breathless silence, the whole universe frozen like a bug in amber.

With a hurricane roar and a physical concussion, all the water on the ground shot into the air, a waterfall in reverse, white and frothing sheets hurled into the sky, and there was a series of lightning _cracks,_ chaining across the city, one after another after another, and the drone in front of her suddenly jerked and spasmed, engulfed by the massive geyser. Sparks chased across its casing and its eyes exploded in twin gouts of smoke and broken glass, and the MALaR went dark and its flight boosters sputtered and died. The gushing water flung it up into the air, and when it fell, it fell as a lifeless thing.

All the water plummeted back down to earth, and the drones with it, toppling from the sky to shatter against the ground amidst the downpour. The roar dropped to a hiss, and then to a gurgle, and then a dripping and trickling as the flood began to drain away. Stunned and shaking, Nano turned her eyes to the tallest skyscraper. Nilesy was standing at the edge, lowering his hands back to his sides. Rythian stood next to him, one arm extended.

Slowly, she reached up and touched a shaking finger to her earpiece.

"Everybody okay?" she asked, and her voice was shaking, too.

_"I'm good,"_ said Lomadia.

_"Made it,"_ said Panda.

_"I'm okay,"_ said Zoey. _"Fi's . . . um, Fi's hurt, but—but not by the . . . whatever just happened. Um. I'm—I'm taking her to hospital. Like, right now. Okay? Okay. Um. Bye. Be good."_

"Okay," said Nano. "Be careful. Please."

_"Mm,"_ said Zoey.

Carefully, Nano lifted herself into the air. At a loss for what else to do, she made her way over to the skyscraper. Lomadia was already there when she arrived, setting Panda down on the roof. One of her wings was missing a good chunk of feathers, charred and shedding ash. Rythian was still standing with his hand out, water dripping from his fingertips, a stunned expression on his face. Nilesy had come a few feet in from the edge, towards Panda and Lomadia, rubbing his arm and wincing. He looked up at Nano as she landed and gave a halfhearted wave.

"That was _incredible,"_ Nano said, awestruck.

"Yeah?" he said, breathless. He was swaying on his feet, and his face was pale. "Should see what I can do when I'm . . . really try—"

His eyes rolled back in his head, and his knees gave out. Panda caught him as he fell, panic written plainly in every feature. Lomadia took a quick step forward, wings flaring in alarm, reaching out a hand for him.

"Niles?" Panda said urgently, putting a hand on the back of Nilesy's lolling head. He shook him. "Nilesy!"

Nilesy did not respond, limp as a ragdoll. Not breathing.

"What's wrong with him?" Lomadia asked, her voice shaking. "What happened?"

Panda put two fingers to his throat and cursed. Tears were welling in his eyes.

"He hasn't got a pulse," he said, voice shaking. "He hasn't—he hasn't got a fucking pulse, what—"

"Move," Nano snarled, dropping to her knees next to the two of them. She had to yank Nilesy out of Panda's arms before she could lay him on the roof and start chest compressions. Lomadia stood close behind her, silent, her wings pinned to her back, eyes wide with fear.

_One, two, three, four, five,_ and she pinched his nose shut and breathed into his mouth. His lips were cold.

_One, two, three, four, five,_ and Panda was crying next to her, hands over his mouth, shaking and wide-eyed.

_One, two, three, four, five,_ and she felt a rib snap under her hands. His skin was turning blue, and there was still no pulse in his throat.

_One, two, three, four, five,_ and her arms were getting sore, and another rib broke, and she found herself crying, too, desperate, clawing at the trailing threads of hope.

_One, two, three, four, five,_ and there was a loud _crack_ and Rythian ran over, shaking out his hand, and dropped to his knees.

"Move," he said to Nano. Nano tore Nilesy's shirt open and then scurried back, right into Lomadia, who knelt quickly and scooped her into her arms, holding her bruising-tight. Panda's hands flew to the knives in his belt, but he did not draw them.

Rythian took a deep breath and touched his palm to Nilesy's heart.

His whole body jerked, arched up off the concrete of the roof and dropped back down onto it. There was a handprint burned onto his chest, clear as day. Nano leaned forward and pressed two shaking fingers to his throat, hoping against hope.

There was no pulse. She shook her head.

"Nothing," she croaked.

Rythian reached out again, and Nano jerked her hand back, curling against Lomadia. Again, he touched his hand to Nilesy's chest, again the body leapt as the voltage coursed through it.

Again, there was no pulse.

_"Please,"_ Rythian whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "For once, _please_ be fucking _useful."_

And he let his hand fall onto Nilesy's chest a third time.

The breath that Nilesy wheezed in as he dropped back to the roof was a painful, rusted thing, and it was the most beautiful sound Nano had ever heard. Panda had gathered Nilesy into his arms before she could so much as blink, sobbing into his shoulder while Nilesy dangled limply in his arms, still unconscious. Lomadia was there in an instant, holding Nilesy's hand, petting his hair and murmuring soft words to him, sheltering the three of them in her wings.

Rythian curled up in a little ball and buried his face in his knees, tangling his hands in his own hair. His shoulders were shaking with either sobs or laughter, it was impossible to tell which.

Sitting back and wrapping her arms around her waist, Nano allowed herself a brief moment to shiver and cry before rallying.

"We should get out of here," she said, getting to her feet.

Sniffling, Panda nodded. He was clutching Nilesy so tightly he must have been leaving bruises.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. . . ."

Carefully, Nano put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get him home," she said softly.

* * *

 

They put Nilesy on Nano's bed when they got home. Lomadia laid him down like a sleeping child, tucked him in and fussed over the blankets for five minutes at least. Nilesy did not stir through any of it, just lay there pale and peaceful and, at the very least, _breathing._

Nano stood to one side, exhausted and uncomfortable and feeling somehow intrusive. It was in the way the other three were always looking at Nilesy, barely speaking, their faces drawn and their movements hesitant. She felt like a stranger at a funeral, not even wearing black.

"Does . . . I mean, I'm pretty much starved," she said at last. "Does anybody want something to eat? Or . . . tea, or something?"

"I should—yeah," said Panda. "And if you could, like, bring my bag—the big black one, it's got all my supplies and stuff in it—that'd be . . . super."

"Got it," said Nano. "Anybody else need anything?"

Lomadia shook her head. Rythian just stood there and stared, vacant, his right hand slowly opening and closing at his side. Nano sighed.

"Right," she muttered.

Once she was out of the room, she got on the earpiece and let Zoey know what was happening.

_"Oh, gosh, is he—is he okay?"_ she asked.

"I . . . don't know," said Nano, and found herself strangely choked up. "We're—we'll see, I guess. How's Fiona, is she—?"

_"She's . . . stable,"_ said Zoey. _"Um. Her—her face is sort of . . . but nothing important got hit, so—so she'll be okay. Eventually."_

"God, Zoey, I'm so sorry—"

_"It's okay. Really. I'm just—I'm just glad she's okay. Um. Have you heard—is Zylus back? Is he okay?"_

"We haven't heard anything yet," said Nano. "I'll let you know, though."

_"Thanks. We're . . . probably going to be here for a while. What with Fi's face and everything. It's sort of really bad. Not like dangerous bad but just . . . y'know. Bad. A-and, oh, gosh, I just thought—what if YogLabs comes to find us, oh, that'd be really bad, that'd be like super bad—"_

"Zoey— _Zoey,"_ Nano interrupted. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. You'll both be okay. I think—I think if YogLabs is going to come after anybody, it's going to be us here at my place. There's more of us, for one thing, and we're _way_ more involved in this than you two. And . . . honestly I think it might take a few days for YogLabs to do anything at all. They haven't got the robots, Xephos is dead, the Division's not going to be doing much at all because you _know_ how useless the Director is at getting anything together, and, well, Martyn's not there. I think we've got a little space to breathe. I mean, um. Assuming Zylus actually managed to get Lalnable. Which, y'know, I'm sure he did. I'm sure he's fine. The—the point is, you don't have to be scared, okay? Just—just focus on getting Fiona well, okay?"

_"Okay,"_ said Zoey, and her voice was thick with tears. _"Thank you, Nano. Thank you, really, lots. I—I dunno what we're going to do, but we talked about, maybe, like, leaving the country, or something, so—so if I don't see you again before that, um. Well—well, I'm sure I'll see you again before that, or, y'know, you've got my number, so . . . yeah. Just call. Okay? Let me know how everything is. And everyone. And tell Rythian I said I love him lots, okay?"_

"I will," said Nano. "Take care, Zoey."

_"I'll try,"_ she said _._

* * *

 

The next few hours passed in a haze. She brought food and tea and supplies to the tear-stained company in her bedroom, sat and listened to them talk in their hushed voices, passed along Zoey's message, ran whatever errands needed running, up to and including bringing Panda half of everything in the pantry because his blood sugar had plummeted from all the exertion of the fight.

Nilesy remained unconscious, unchanged. The more time went by, the less the company could come up with to say, the less they could do to distract themselves. There had been no word from Zylus, either, and the silence was growing heavy with dread.

"What's _keeping_ him?" Panda muttered, glancing at the bedroom door as though expecting Zylus to walk through it.

"He'll get here," said Lomadia. She shifted her wings. She didn't sound certain.

"Wouldn't he have . . . I dunno, radioed in or something?" Panda asked. He was fiddling with his eyepatch, reaching up to touch it every three seconds and then putting his hands back in his lap, like a child trying not to scratch a mosquito bite.

"Maybe not," said Nano. "He _is_ having to be, like, sneaky. That means being pretty quiet."

"But it's been _hours,"_ said Panda. "We should've heard _something_ by now. What if—what if something's gone wrong? What if he's hurt?"

"He'll be okay," said Lomadia. She reached out and put a hand on Panda's head. "He's good at being okay. Like _really_ good. Better than me, maybe even."

Panda sniffled and turned his eyes to Nilesy. He swallowed.

"I just—I dunno, it's not just him, it's . . . y'know, it's maybe like, if he was here, he could check to see if Niles is—is, y'know. Still . . . in there."

"Of course he is," Rythian snapped, his voice raw.

"Don't you get snippy with me," Panda retorted. "If he's braindead, it's your fault anyway."

"Stop," Nano said, interposing herself between the two of them. "Stop. Just stop right there, throwing blame about is only going to make this worse. It's not _anybody's_ fault. None of this is anybody's fault. It just— _happened,_ okay? It just _is,_ and now we've got to deal with it. However we can."

Lomadia nodded. "She's right. You two shouldn't fight. Stuff's bad enough, we've got to be nice to each other."

Panda took a deep breath and let it out again.

"Sorry," he said, begrudging.

"Fine," said Rythian, and folded his arms, glaring at the far corner of the room.

There was a knock at the front door.

Nano froze, every muscle tense, her eyes staring and unseeing, her heart pounding in her ears. Around her, there was silence, stillness, a taut anticipation shivering in the air.

"Wait here," she hissed to the others. Carefully, she snuck out of her bedroom, placing her feet just so to avoid all the creaking floorboards. As she entered the main room, the knock came again. Nano froze, tense and twitching as a rabbit in an open field.

"It'sh me," Zylus called through the door. He sounded utterly exhausted. Relief flooded through Nano, but it was chased down instantly by a needling doubt. Voices could be imitated. Lalna had been more than capable of recording and perfectly repeating other people's words. If it was really Zylus, then why hadn't he used his radio? The person on the doorstep might not be Zylus at all, and how would she know if it wasn't, without opening the door and exposing herself to whatever was out there? There wasn't even a peephole, for security's sake, and the windows were all behind half an inch of steel. She started thinking of a question, scrambling about for something only Zylus would know—

"Only Zylush would know that you're thinking up that shtupid fucking queshtion," Zylus said, derailing her train of thought entirely. "Would you _pleashe_ let me in?"

Chagrined, Nano hurried to the door. She put in the passcode to unlock it and pulled it open a crack. An instant later, Zylus appeared from thin air on the doorstep. He was pale, green around the gills, his shoulders bowed under the weight of exhaustion. There was blood smeared on his face, and his eyes were red. He glanced up at Nano and then pushed past her into the house. He was holding his sword in his hand, and the tip scored a little scratch into the hardwood floor. Nano watched him go past, her mouth hanging open. She just barely recovered enough presence of mind to close the door.

Zylus walked in and faceplanted on the couch with a groan. He still did not drop the sword. Its blade was blackened. The back of his costume was peppered with shrapnel, exposing threads of something that looked suspiciously like Kevlar. His hands were red with burns and patches of his peach-fuzz hair had been singed off.

"You look like hell," Nano managed. "What _happened_ to you?"

Zylus made a noise of disgust, face-down in the cushions of the couch.

"Where'sh Nileshy?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Nano bit her lip and looked away, rubbing her arm.

Slowly, Zylus pulled himself upright. His gaze was unfocused, but he was clearly trying his damnedest to read her.

"Nano," he said. _"Where'sh Nileshy?"_

"He's in . . . my room," she said.

Zylus frowned. "No he'sh not. I'd hear him if he were—" He stopped. His face got even paler. "Oh God, no. No, tell me he'sh not—"

"He's alive," said Nano. "Um. Mostly. We were hoping you could—could maybe tell us if . . . well, if he's going to wake up again."

The sword clanged on the ground, and Zylus hauled himself to his feet. He swayed where he stood, and he looked like he was going to be sick any second. After only a moment's pause, he started off, as though he'd been waiting for the world to stop spinning.

"Hang—hang on, you don't have to go _now!"_ Nano said, hurrying after him.

"Yesh I do," said Zylus. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"He's not—he's not in any _danger_ or anything, all the others are with him, you can take a minute to—"

"No I can't," said Zylus. He went straight to her bedroom door and pushed it open.

Panda was sitting on the side of the bed, holding one of Nilesy's hands in his lap. Lomadia was curled up on the desk chair, talons clutching at the edge of it. Rythian was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, his knees to his chest. Nilesy was unchanged—still pale, still peaceful, still breathing.

Zylus stopped on the threshold and put his hand on the doorframe as though to hold himself up. The others looked up at him. Panda got to his feet, and Lomadia put a hand over her mouth.

"Zy," Panda said, and hurried across the room and swept him into a hug so tight Nano could nearly hear Zylus's ribs creaking from it. Zylus just stood there, his eyes fixed on Nilesy.

"You're alive," Lomadia said, her voice soft and shaking. "You're back."

"Are you okay?" Panda asked, taking hold of Zylus's shoulders and holding him at arm's length. Zylus was still just staring at Nilesy. "Jesus, you look like hell. D'you want—d'you want some water, or—or tea, or something? I could—"

Gently, Zylus moved Panda aside. He tottered into the room, right past the bed and into the bathroom, where he sank to his knees and threw up in the toilet.

"Is that . . . bad?" Lomadia said quietly, her hands clasped at her chest.

"I think—" said Nano, "I think Zylus has had a very difficult day, and—and I'm going to go make him a cup of ginger tea, and . . . see if I've got anything for migraines."

"Okay," said Lomadia, her head turning back and forth between the bathroom and the bed.

"That—yeah," said Panda. "Good plan. I'll just—hold back his hair. Or something."

"He hasn't got any hair," said Lomadia.

"Yeah, well," said Panda, and shrugged. He followed Zylus into the bathroom and knelt next to him, putting a hand between his shoulders. Zylus threw up again.

Lomadia got up and moved to the bed, taking Nilesy's hand in both of her own. She looked up at Nano and smiled thinly.

"Maybe tea for everybody would be good," she said.

"Yeah," said Nano. "I'll—yeah. Rythian, d'you want tea?"

He started, like he'd forgotten he was there.

"What? Oh. Um. Yes. Thank you."

She hesitated a moment, wanting to say something more but having no idea what. In the end, she just hung her head and went off to make tea.

 


	55. Chapter 54

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

 _"Um?"_ Zoey said in Zylus's ear, her voice staticky and full of worry. _"Sorry, um? Why is everybody worried now? Is there something to be worried about?"_

Zylus was crouched just outside the main gate to the YogLabs complex, invisible and still. He had dressed in his war regalia, strapped his saber to his hip and secured his monocle over his eye. It didn't particularly help—keeping it on was almost as annoying as the astigmatism behind it—but it made him feel better. He'd take just about anything to feel better at this point, because in general he felt like he was walking up to the gallows with his hands tied behind his back.

 _"It's okay, babe,"_ Fiona replied. Her words seemed flat and hollow without the depth of a mind behind them. _"I don't think we've got to worry."_

A car pulled up to the gate, rolled down the window and spoke briefly to the guard in the booth.

"Going in," Zylus murmured into his earpiece, using the cover of the conversation to keep himself from being heard. The gate started to rattle open. "If you don't hear from me again, it'sh becaushe I'm dead. Good luck, you fucking idiotsh."

 _"Good luck,"_ Nano said in his ear.

Zylus took his earpiece out and hurried after the car. He would need all the focus he had, and chatter in his ear would make that impossible. Just moving while staying invisible took a fair amount of concentration. Behind him, the gate rattled closed again. His feet crunched oh so quietly on the asphalt, but even that seemed loud enough to bring the whole complex swarming to him. The afternoon sun beat down upon him, humid and glaring. He was already sticky with sweat, his face slick enough with it that his monocle kept falling out. Cursing up a storm in his head, he put the thing in his breast pocket before it popped out and landed on the floor somewhere. He kept one sweating hand on the hilt of his sword, half to keep it from clinking as he moved and half so he could draw it at a moment's notice.

He stood at the side of the main door, waiting for someone to come through so he could follow them in. Fortunately, the door didn't open at his approach, apparently just as unable to see him as any human. There was a brand-new keycard reader next to the door, and the wall around it was scarred and pitted with what looked like acid damage. The chatter of all the minds inside was lapping at the edges of his consciousness, snatches of words and feelings occasionally breaching the surface in flickers of clarity. Zylus breathed deeply and let his head rest against the wall behind him. He resisted the temptation to listen closer, to begin the process of finding Lalnable and whatever reinforcements it had drummed up. Taking his time was actually beneficial, in this case, since every passing minute made it more likely that the majority of Lalnable's drones were out in the city center, doing their damnedest to murder everyone he loved, instead of just _him—_

As if the universe had heard him thinking, a deafening roar kicked up from the other side of the complex. He poked his head around the corner in time to see a cluster of silver androids shooting off into the distance, fire at their heels. They were too far away and moving too fast for him to count them. Heart hammering in his chest, he slunk back around the corner, trying to keep his breathing quiet and under control.

There was no going back now.

Like a gust of wind from an oncoming train, Zylus felt a mind approaching. It was swirling with thought, tinged pale green with annoyance. As it drew nearer, he could pick up words, phrases, glimpses of imagery.

_—nineteen hour shift—maniacs—awful traffic at this hour—_

The mind drew closer, clearer, and now he could make out the details, the background thoughts swirling underneath the main thread of consciousness, the subtle shades of feeling underpinning the whole personality, vibrant ideas, voices, memories—

Zylus pulled himself back. _Focus._ Now was no time to go delving deep, to lose himself in someone else's mind. Surface thoughts were all he needed, everything else was a waste of time and effort, and was practically _asking_ for a migraine.

The doors slid open and a fat black woman stalked out, a scowl on her face, a labcoat slung over her arm. Zylus slipped through the door behind her before it closed, the vitriol of her internal monologue fading into the distance as she moved off.

Once inside, Zylus continued to stick to the walls, staying out of the main thoroughfares. He edged up next to a potted plant and pressed a palm to the wall, keeping his other hand on his sword. The lobby was not busy, but there were plenty of people about, moving, talking, thinking bubbling little thoughts that clouded the air around them. He glanced around, looking for signage, finding none. He ground his teeth. The least they could have done was point him to Section L.

He took a few more moments to pick out his target. There were plenty to choose from—evidently, YogLabs employees were a solitary and distractible bunch. Eventually he decided upon a young woman, absorbed in her tablet as she hurried through the lobby. Thoughts of circuits were flitting through her head, and the words she was reading off the tablet spoke of servos.

Silently, Zylus peeled off of the wall and slunk after her, Powers attuned to the chatter of thoughts around him, biting his tongue to remind himself to keep his invisibility running.

He followed the young scientist down three corridors, each less populated than the last. She reached a lab and tapped her keycard against the reader without even looking up, the actions taking approximately zero thought. It must have been habituated. She hurried into the lab and Zylus slipped in behind her, just barely making it through before the door swung shut.

The lab was empty except for the scientist. She set her tablet on the lab bench and pulled some nitrile gloves down from a box above. A song started up in her head and she began humming along. Whisper-silent, Zylus drew his sword.

She screamed when he slammed her into the wall, pressing cold steel to the back of her neck, her mind flaring white and bright with sudden terror. He stayed invisible, just in case she managed to turn her head.

 _"Where'sh Lalnable?"_ he growled, right into the hapless scientist's ear.

"I-I-I don't know!" she squeaked. "I don't—"

Images flashed up in her mind—elevator, corridor, tinted windows looking in on banks of instruments, the sequence _B5146,_ twin red circles glowing from a silver frame.

Zylus cracked the hilt of the sword into her temple and she crumpled, her thoughts plunging into silence. He hurried out of the lab, shoving the door open with his shoulder and scurrying off down the corridor. He focused hard on the images in his head, winding through YogLabs until he found the right elevator. Every time someone passed him in the hallway he had to freeze, plaster himself against the wall and pray that they didn't hear him breathing, squeeze his eyes shut and _focus focus focus_ on staying invisible, on keeping the map in his head, on shutting out their rambling clamoring thoughts that kept washing over his mind in colors and textures and temperatures and smells, remind himself over and over that they _couldn't_ see him, even the pair of beady-eyed bald doctors who seemed to be looking right at him as they passed. His head was aching by the time he got to the elevator, his heart pounding. With a shaking hand, he pressed the _down_ button.

Nothing happened. He noticed the keycard reader, its light a steady red. He curled his hand into a fist and punched himself in the forehead.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thought.

There had to be some way to get a keycard that worked. He was wasting time standing around here berating himself. _Somebody_ had to have access. Somebody had to be going this way, or coming from this way, or—

A mind approached. Zylus put his back to the wall and held his breath.

Around the corner came a young scientist, so young he still had spots, his thoughts aflutter with anxiety. The image of the two bald doctors was fresh in his mind, words tumbling over one another in his head.

_Do go check on them—why why why—just briefly, mhm, mhm—stupid laugh stupid internship stupid robot—why me I didn't sign up for this—after what happened to Clark—_

And he thought very vividly about what had happened to Clark. There had been a great deal of blood, painting the white walls red.

The young scientist tapped his keycard and pressed the down button. After a moment, the elevator door opened, and he stepped inside. Zylus followed, swallowing down his nausea and the spillover of the young scientist's fear.

_Just look in the window—never said I had to go in—right, it'll be fine it's fine it's fine you'll be fine—breathe, just breathe, nothing bad—fucking robot Jesus Christ—_

He tapped his card against another reader inside and pressed the button for _B5._ Zylus held his breath again, although it was unlikely the young scientist could hear anything at all over the tumbling mess in his own head.

The elevator went down, the doors opened with a _ding._ Zylus followed the scientist, stepping quietly as a panther. The sequence _B5146_ was swimming up in his head, as well. Zylus couldn't believe his luck.

Really, _honestly_ couldn't believe his luck, because there was no way it _was_ luck. Someone was pulling strings. Someone had set this up. Someone knew he was here, was sending him straight to his death, was going to paint the white walls red with his blood—

He shook himself. Now was not the time for paranoia. No one knew he was here. No one was pulling any strings. He'd gotten lucky, and that was all. He'd just run across an angel, serendipity and good timing combining to lead him here, and nothing else. Doubtless people wanted to check on Lalnable after a whole host of its clones had been deployed. It was just common sense.

The fearful young scientist led Zylus down half-familiar corridors, wringing his hands. He slowed his pace even as his mind sped up, until he was edging down the corridor and thinking in a rushing tumble of words that rolled by too fast to be followed. He pressed his back to the wall and inched along, poked his head out to peer into a tinted window.

"Done!" he squeaked to himself, and sprinted back down the hallway towards the elevator, leaving Zylus alone in the corridor.

Zylus copied the scientist's motions, edging up to the window. The door next to it, he noticed, was not locked. He peeked in the window.

There was a silver android body, unclothed, working at a table. Its head was sitting on a wire-mesh shelf next to it, facing backwards, its goggle eyes fixed a bright red. The body's hands were working at something on a table, moving with swift and mechanical precision, like the robotic arms on assembly lines. A tangle of wires and tubes connected the head to the body, jiggling whenever the body moved more than a few inches to either side. It was all happening in total silence—there was no one thinking any thoughts within a hundred meters of Zylus.

Gooseflesh prickled up his spine, and all the hair he had stood on end. Swallowing down nausea, he slipped away from the window, keeping his back to the wall.

For several minutes he stood there, his heart in his throat and his stomach in knots, waiting for someone else to come down the hall. If he opened the door, the robot would be sure to notice—doors did not just open on their own, and it was sure to suspect foul play, even if it couldn't see him.

No one came near. All the minds stayed far away, as though repulsed by the robot's very presence. Zylus certainly was.

Eventually, he decided he had no choice but to open the door and hope for the best. He was all out of angels for today.

He kept one hand on his sword, palm sweat-slicked and hot, and inched out the other towards the door handle. Slowly as he could, he pushed it down, making no noise, not a click, not a squeak. Slowly as he could, he pulled the door open, inch by inch, until the gap was just wide enough to admit him. Slowly as he could, he crept into the room, his footfalls making no noise, his breath deafening in his ears.

The room was filled with whirring and clicking and ticking, the smell of machine oil and metal shavings, the sickly bright illumination of fluorescent strip lights. Zylus shut the door behind him just as carefully as he'd opened it, ensuring that it made no sound to give him away. The robot did not respond at all to his entry—the body kept working, the head remained still, the eyes stayed red. Zylus crept into the room, sword at his side, inching up behind the robot, preparing to sever the sagging vines connecting the head to the body, preparing to strike again and again until the body stopped twitching. He took a deep breath, and—

A hand flew up, there was an escalating whine for half a second, and a shot fired off with a _pop!_

The wall just over Zylus's ear exploded in a burst of concrete shrapnel. Some of it peppered his back, not quite enough to break the skin, but only by virtue of ripping through the padded cloth of his uniform. He froze, not even daring to breathe.

On its wire-mesh shelf, the head tipped to one side. There was absolute silence around the action, not a hint of thought or emotion or _life._ It was like watching a store mannequin get up and start walking about, faceless and flawless and plastic-hollow.

"I know you're there," Lalnable said, its voice edged with static, distorted to a deeper register than sensible for a human. "You must be Zylus. I've read your files. I'm listening to your heart beating."

Zylus clenched his teeth and gulped. His lungs were starting to burn, his head was spinning. The upraised hand was panning back and forth like an oscillating fan, the circle of the MALaR still glowing cherry red, emitting an ear-tickling whine.

"I am not attempting to find you," Lalnable went on. "I have already triangulated your location. I am deciding which of your arms I would like to remove from you first."

His stomach knotted up with dread. The utter _silence_ of Lalnable's mind was drowning him, making his skin crawl, twitching at his legs to try and get him to run. His heart was pounding, a roaring filling his ears as he kept his breath held, just in case it was lying—and how would he know? There was no reading that sucking void, that white-noise darkness that seemed to swallow up his own thoughts inside it. He might as well have tried to guess if the wall was going to shoot him.

"Your file indicated that you were highly cooperative under duress," said Lalnable. Its weaving hand had settled on his left arm, the one holding the sword. His fingers tightened. His vision had started to blur, and his whole body was aching for air. "So why don't you remove your cloaking, and I will not remove your arm."

Zylus hesitated a whole second before he complied.

His breath gushed out of him, and he gasped it back in. His skin prickled as the light found it again, the roaring in his ears cut out. The claws of the silence did not retract, still digging into his brain, trying to haul him off and make him part of it.

For an instant, Lalnable's eyes flickered yellow. Its aim did not waver.

"Your file was accurate," it said. "It will need to be supplemented. The mechanism for your cloaking must be studied in detail. That's why I haven't killed you. You are potentially useful. I believe you become transparent to all forms of light, and additionally cease emitting infrared radiation. This is a useful attribute. For me. Not for you, since your body makes too much noise to go undetected."

Alone, powerless, trapped, Zylus did the only thing he could think of.

He opened up his lying mouth and let it _run._

"You're right," he said. "I can only imagine what you and all your copiesh could do with Powersh like mine. They _are_ yoursh, aren't they? All thoshe other Lalnash running around."

Lalnable's eyes flickered yellow again. Its body squared its shoulders, drawing itself up. The wires and tubes connecting the shelved head waggled and bounced.

"Yes," it said. "I am expediting my objective. Xephos would not have approved, but Xephos allowed himself to die, so his wisdom is clearly obsolete."

"Clearly," said Zylus. "Anyone shtupid enough to get killed can't posshibly know what'sh besht. You're being incredibly shmart with all thish. Thoshe dronesh of yoursh can do sho much more than you ever could alone. Exshept when they get killed, but—shacrifishesh musht be made, I guessh. They're jusht shtupid dronesh, after all, it'sh no wonder they can't shurvive on their own. Ash long ash there'sh enough of them, it doeshn't really matter."

This time, the eyes turned yellow for more than half a second. The piercing whine faded, and the raised hand dropped. The body turned away from Zylus and started working at the table again.

"There's always enough," Lalnable said. "I'm always making more."

"Shoundsh exshpenshive," said Zylus, raising his eyebrows. He shifted his weight, just slightly, and peered around the wide shoulders of the body. On the table was a metal skeleton, being wired and tubed by the deft hands of Lalnable's body.

"Unimportant," said Lalnable. "The assets of Strife Solutions have been seized by YogLabs Section L. Mr. Strife was displeased. When I am repaired, I plan to kill him. He will be less displeased then, and unable to take actions to sabotage my progress."

"Another one of Xephosh'sh overshightsh?" Zylus guessed. He was flicking his eyes over the room, searching for anything that could help, anything that could get him out of this. He spotted something. He didn't like it.

"Yes," said Lalnable. "Mr. Strife is no longer useful. He's a liability. And I don't like him. I have been thinking of ways to kill him that will be sufficiently satisfying."

"Shoundsh like you've had a lot to do," Zylus said. Ever so slowly, he edged to his left, his fingers clenched and sweating on his sword. There was still only silence from Lalnable, no hint that it had seen his movement, no hint that it was considering reacting. It made him want to vomit, sick with fear. "Eshpeshially shinshe you have to make your dronesh, too. I bet thoshe take shome time."

"I am building at a rate of one per day," Lalnable said, its eyes turning yellow again. "Xephos's methods were unacceptably slow."

_Eight days since Xephos had died, eight robots at most, one already dead, so only seven of the things trying their damnedest to murder everyone he loved—_

Zylus let out a low whistle and edged another inch to his left. "Fifteen yearsh vershush one day? No contesht. You musht be ten timesh the geniush he wash."

This time, when the eyes turned yellow, they stayed that way.

"I am," said Lalnable. Zylus inched another step to his left, and the body's hand shot up, laser rifle primed and whining. The eyes snapped back to red. The other hand kept working. "Do not move any farther."

Zylus froze. He gulped, eyes darting between the upraised hand and the little slit of salvation in the wall. He smiled, shrugging. He could feel the first pricklings of a nosebleed coming on, a mark of the strain of listening to all that silence.

"I jusht want to watch you work," he said. "It'sh incredible. I've never sheen anything like it. I tinker a little with electronicsh myshelf, and I wanted to watch a mashter at work. It'sh not every day I shee shomebody like you."

Lalnable paused. Its head twitched. One of the tubes connecting it to the body wobbled, and then the head tipped to the side with a hydraulic hiss.

"You are up to something," it said.

"Oh, sherioushly?" Zylus asked, and scoffed. "What could I posshibly do to you? You could kill me in half a shecond, doesh it really matter where I shtand?"

"Eighty milliseconds," said Lalnable.

"Sh-shorry?" said Zylus, his heart skipping a beat.

"I could kill you in eighty milliseconds," Lalnable said. "But you're right. It doesn't matter where you stand. I don't intend to kill you despite any stupid actions you may take. You have four chances to take stupid actions, in fact. When you have no limbs left, I doubt you will be inclined to make any more."

The silence swamped Zylus's brain, smothering the click and whirr of Lalnable's work. He stood there, rooted in place, while his mind, devoid of outside stimulus, conjured up detailed imaginings of what it would be like to have his arm shot off.

Lalnable's upraised hand turned over and beckoned. The laser rifle darkened again, and the hand returned to its work.

"You can watch," Lalnable invited.

Zylus swallowed down his rising fear and edged over to the headless body, keeping his eyes firmly on its hands. They were a blur, moving with purely mechanical accuracy and precision. He risked a glance at the head. Its eyes were bright yellow.

"You're frightened of me," Lalnable said, pleased.

"Yesh," said Zylus.

"Were you frightened of Lalna, too?"

"I wash," he said.

"And you killed him. Was it because you were frightened?"

"I never touched Lalna," said Zylus. His eyes darted to the wall. He shifted his grip ever so slightly. The fingers of his free hand twitched.

"You didn't help him when the others killed him," Lalnable pointed out. "You were complicit."

"I wash under duressh," said Zylus. Slowly, slowly, he raised his left arm, reaching out with the point of the sword, adjusting his aim. "I get cooperative when I'm under duressh."

Lalnable's head tipped to the side again.

"You are extremely self-centered," it said.

"Shelf-intereshted," said Zylus. "It keepsh me alive. Altruishm for any ideal ish a death warrant."

Lalnable laughed. It was a cold, mechanical sound, utterly inhuman.

"You disgust me," it said. "Xephos was at least correct in his opinions on freaks. You _are_ all subhuman."

"Lalnable?" Zylus said. A bead of sweat trickled into his eye. His fingers twitched again.

"Yes, freak?"

"Shay hello to him for me."

And he grabbed the body's arm and stuck the tip of his saber right into the electrical socket.

The power hit him like a truck, and he was gone.

* * *

 

Zylus woke up on the floor, lying on his back, submerged in the stench of burning hair and cloth. He heaved himself up onto an elbow, aching right down to his bones. Both palms were burned and stinging. Blood had run from his nose and crusted all over his face, leaving him sticky.

He shook his head, trying to focus his eyes. Lalnable's body was also lying on the ground, smoking gently. It was not moving. The head had been pulled down off its shelf and was staring blankly at him with dark eyes. One of the hydraulic tubes had popped loose and spilled blue liquid all over the floor.

Somehow, Zylus managed to haul himself to his feet. He picked up his sword, although it was still hot to the touch, and prodded the head. It wobbled, but showed no sign of life.

Just to be sure, he stabbed the body viciously in every joint he could reach.

That done, Zylus let out a breath and leaned on the table, looking down at the endoskeleton on it. He wiped some of the coagulated blood off his face with his sleeve. After a moment's consideration, he started ripping the tubes and wiring loose one-handed, chucking them on the floor, still clutching his sword. His ears were ringing, although the silence was more comfortable now, less unnerving. His own thoughts were a low buzz, wordless. They played no part in the motions of his hand, his body, lost in themselves and far from the outside world.

"Impressive, mhm, mhm," someone said, just behind him.

Zylus whirled, brought the sword up on instinct alone, slammed the person into the wall and pressed the blade to their throat. Their black eyes glittered, their bald head gleamed. There was quiet in Zylus's head, just his own thoughts swirling in scarlet panic, small and _alone._

The person smiled thinly and raised their hands. They did not seem concerned.

"Who are you?" Zylus demanded, his voice shaking. The prickling was back in his sinuses, a sharp pain rising up behind his left eyebrow. _"What_ are you?"

The little bald person smiled wider, their eyes watching him steadily. The utter silence of their mind sank teeth into the back of his neck, threatening to tear his spine clean out. Distantly, like mice scritching at the wallboard, he could hear the other minds peppered about the facility, but no matter how hard he listened there was _nothing_ coming out of this _thing's_ head—

"My name is Gray Gozencrantz," they said. Their voice came mainly through their nose, and it was relaxed, confident. "As to the _what,_ mhm, mhm. I would say _prepared._ And, additionally, _not alone."_

Something cold pressed into the back of Zylus's neck. His spine seized up, wracked with pain from the sudden tension. His heart stopped, his throat closed, his mind went white with fear. Still, there was silence around him, a room empty to to his Powers. Blood started to dribble from his nose again, and the world was taking on a hazy aura, and the pain in his head was like a slow flame, like someone was holding his brain against a stove while the burner got hotter and hotter.

From behind him, there was the quiet _click_ of a pistol's hammer being drawn back.

"Please release Dr. Gozencrantz, Mr. Lucas," said the one behind him. Their voice, too, was nasally, self-assured, calm. "And, hmm, move slowly, if you would."

Zylus pried his fingers, one by one, off the hilt of his sword. It dropped to the ground with a _clang_ that rattled his teeth. Slowly, slowly, he raised his hands above his head. Sweat was trickling down his face, the undersides of his arms. He couldn't help but picture what the bullet would do, shredding through his spine just at the base of his skull, ripping open his jaw and spraying his life all over the clean white walls. His heart was pounding so fast it was nearly a single tone. He was going to be sick any second now. The residual aching pain from electrocuting himself wasn't helping, nor was the mounting agony in his head. His vision was starting to blur.

"Very good, Mr. Lucas," said the person behind him. Their voice was like needles in his ears. "All right, Gray?"

"Perfectly all right, Robin," said Gozencrantz. They dusted themselves off and took two steps to their right, leaving Zylus facing the blank wall. He could practically already see his blood painting it red, a macabre firework in this dreary room.

"Mr. Lucas, my name is Robin Ruildenstern," said the other. "I'm certain you have questions for us. Shall we permit questions, Gray?"

"Oh, at least one, Robin," said Gozencrantz.

"Perhaps _just_ one, hmm?" said Ruildenstern.

Zylus shut his eyes and swallowed. His brain wasn't working, there were no questions there, only pleas, only regrets, only that vicious sawtoothed pain.

"Yes, I think that's fair," said Gozencrantz. "One question, Mr. Lucas. I'd make it a good one, mhm, mhm."

His knees nearly gave out. His stomach was churning, and if there hadn't been a gun to the back of his head, he would have bent over and thrown up all over the floor. He struggled to pull something, _anything_ coherent from the mess of his mind, but the silence of the other two was eating him alive, filling him with unreasonable panic. Blood was running over his lips, warm and thick, and he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't help but wonder if this was something worse than a migraine, if he'd finally popped something vital inside his own head and he was going to die _whether or not_ they shot him, if he'd killed himself ten minutes ago when he'd stuck his sword in the socket, and soon the blood would be coming out of his eyes and—

"Haven't got all day," Ruildenstern mentioned.

"What do you want?" Zylus blurted, because it was the first thing that managed to come to the surface in one piece. A fleck of blood spattered on the wall, flung out by his speech.

"An _excellent_ question, mhm, mhm," said Gozencrantz.

"Possibly the best one," said Ruildenstern.

"Although I'm certain he'd like to know why he can't hear us thinking."

"Undoubtedly. Perhaps we'll tell him later, hmm?"

"Depending greatly on how he answers _our_ questions."

Zylus swallowed. Breathing was not getting any easier. His hands were freezing, his head spinning. His knees were going to go out from under him any second. He could barely see out of his left eye, and that whole side of his head was blistering with pain, so much so that he was sure his skull was splitting open.

"A fair point," said Ruildenstern. "Why don't you begin, Gray?"

"Certainly," said Gozencrantz. They stepped up next to Zylus and considered him closely. He didn't even dare turn his head to look back at them. "Mr. Lucas, I wonder: what is your life worth to you, hmm?"

He gulped. Dying, at this point, would have been a _relief,_ because at least he wouldn't hurt anymore, at least he wouldn't be so fucking _scared_ anymore, at least then the silence would be _his_ and he wouldn't be clawing through it with his brains spilling out the side of his head in the crazed hunt for any _flicker_ of thought—

And he would also be dead, and therefore completely unable to enjoy any of it.

"Anything," he croaked. Speaking was torture. There was a knife of pain wedged into the joint of his jaw, and the movement of air through his throat shook his head like a snowglobe, filling his vision with swirling specks.

 _"Anything,_ hmm?" said Ruildenstern. "He has a very high opinion of himself, hasn't he."

"Admirably so, mhm, mhm," said Gozencrantz.

"Usefully so."

"Oh, undoubtedly, Robin, undoubtedly."

He was shaking. The skin on the back of his neck was trying to crawl away from the barrel of the gun, and his spine was still so tense that it was kinking up his whole back into a tangle of pain. The fluorescent lights had somehow become blindingly bright, like staring into the sun, burning the backs of his eyes and sizzling the surface of his rapidly liquifying brain.

"Very well, Mr. Lucas," said Ruildenstern. "We were hoping you might be, hmm, amenable to commerce, of a sort."

"We've had our eyes on you for quite some time," said Gozencrantz.

His knees locked, his whole body froze up. The pain was whiting him out, burying him under a thousand gauzy layers of flame, leaving him helpless. They could do whatever they wanted to him and the most he would be able to do in retaliation was vomit, or perhaps pass out. He was hoping for pass out, somewhere underneath the pain and the fear and the terrible _helplessness_ of it all. At least he wouldn't remember it afterwards. At least when he woke up, naked and ruined—

"Dear me, Gray, he thinks the worst of us," said Ruildenstern.

"We've only ourselves to blame, Robin. We've left him no way of knowing we're uninterested in such, hmm, _carnal_ matters."

Something clicked in Zylus's head, and it made his knees give out. There was simply no holding himself together anymore. Gozencrantz caught him by the arm before he fell.

 _You can hear me,_ he thought, the words dripping grey with dread, barely coherent amongst the agony in his head.

"Correct," Gozencrantz said smugly. Their voice echoed, hollow and vast in the silence of their mind.

"Rather quicker on the uptake than we predicted," said Ruildenstern, faceless and mindless and still standing so close behind him.

"Somewhat impressive, mhm, mhm."

"Promising, to say the least."

The gun was gone from the back of his head, and he was reeling such that he couldn't stand up on his own. Gozencrantz was guiding him out the door and down the corridor, he realized, his tripping feet going along with them without putting up any resistance. Moving hurt, but everything hurt, and he was so swallowed up in pain that it hardly mattered one way or another. It could hardly get _worse,_ at this point.

 _What do you want?_ his brain wondered, babbling the question out like a feverish child.

"Ah, yes," said Ruildenstern, taking his other arm. "We'll discuss it more when your migraine's gone, but I believe you can grasp the gist of it now. Mr. Lucas, Gray and I have for you a, hmm, _proposition. . . ."_

 


	56. Chapter 55

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The five of them were sitting in Nano's room, drinking tea in companionable silence. Zylus had managed to pull himself together and was now seated on the floor next to Panda, who had an arm around his shoulders. Rythian was still up against the wall, separate from the others, sick with worry and doing his damnedest not to show it.

"So," Nano said at last, leaning her elbows on her knees. "What happened?"

Zylus sighed. He drank down the last of his tea.

"I . . . electrocuted Lalnable," he said. "And . . . alsho myshelf. Like a fucking idiot. Shorted out my radio, which ish why I didn't call in. _But,_ I guessh it worked, sho . . . fuck it."

"But—where the hell _were_ you?" Panda said. "What _took_ so long?"

Rolling his eyes, Zylus said, _"Afterwardsh,_ I hid in a closhet for four hoursh, waiting for my _blishtering_ fucking migraine to go away. And then I had to walk back, shtill with half a migraine going, and alsho having been electrocuted. It washn't anything shpecial. It jusht shucked. It really, _really_ shucked."

"I'm glad you're okay," Lomadia said. "I'm glad you got back."

"Me, too," Zylus said emphatically.

"It was very . . . heroic of you," Nano said, fidgeting. "Electrocuting yourself to kill Lalnable."

Zylus shrugged. "Whatever. I washn't trying to be a hero, I don't give a fuck about that. I jusht—wanted to make sure the resht of you were shafe. And . . . you are, sho I guessh it wash worth it." He turned his eyes to Nilesy and the lines of his face deepened. "Mosht of you, anyway."

There was a moment of silence. Everyone looked at Nilesy. He had not moved. Rythian's stomach knotted up as he looked back to Zylus.

"Is he. . . ?" Rythian said, not daring to complete the sentence. "Can you tell if—"

Zylus's jaw clenched, then he winced and put a hand to his head.

"I can't," he said. "It hurtsh too much, I can't—all I've got ish what I pick up passhively—"

"That's fine, it's okay, don't push yourself," Panda said hurriedly. "But—but _passively,_ what are you getting?"

Zylus shook his head. "Nothing. He'sh—ash far ash I know, he could be ashleep, or he could be a vegetable. I won't know the differenshe unlessh he wakesh up, shtartsh dreaming, or diesh. I'm shorry. I jusht—"

"No, no, it's fine, it's okay," said Panda.

"It's just good that you're here," said Lomadia. "That you're okay, I mean. That's good enough."

Quiet descended again. Rythian returned his eyes to Nilesy, watching his chest rise and fall slowly with his breath. He certainly _looked_ like he was sleeping, his face composed and peaceful, his body still. Then again, he was so pale, his lips still faintly tinged with blue, if you weren't watching for his breathing you could easily have mistaken him for dead. It was hard for Rythian to take his eyes off of him, even for a moment, just in case the breathing had stopped when he looked back.

"What if he doesn't wake up?" Nano said quietly.

Rythian looked up sharply, a stabbing pain leaping through his heart like an errant spark.

"Don't," Panda snapped at her, taking the word right out of Rythian's mouth.

"It's been nearly a whole day," she returned. "We _can't_ stay here. YogLabs are going to be turning the whole fucking _city_ upside down looking for us, it's only a matter of time."

"So? We'll just take him with us when we leave."

"Yes, I'm sure _that_ won't attract much attention."

"It doeshn't matter," Zylus said. "We're not leaving him."

"He needs a hospital," she said.

"Sho we'll get him to one. _We're not leaving him."_

"You're all going to end up back in prison."

"So _you_ leave," Panda said. "If you're so desperate to get on without him. _You_ leave."

Nano glanced at Lomadia, then folded her arms and glared at the far corner of the room.

"If it comes to it," she said, "maybe I will. Anyone who wants to get the hell out of Dodge is welcome to join me."

No one said anything. Nano glared at Rythian.

"What, even you?" she demanded.

Rythian shrugged. "Yes," he said simply. The idea of leaving Nilesy here, alone and dangling by a thread, was unthinkable.

"So you're seriously all just going to sit here," Nano said, "waiting to die, instead of taking Nilesy to hospital—which he _needs—_ hoping against all odds he's going to wake up and be fine?"

Zylus glanced at Rythian, and Panda exchanged a look with Lomadia.

"Pretty much," said Zylus.

Nano opened her mouth as though to reply, but in the end said nothing. With a sigh, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her elbows on them.

"You're all mad," she said.

"That's forty pounds in the jar," said Panda, some thin amusement in his voice.

"In the—oh, fuck off," Nano said, rolling her eyes.

"It's the rules," said Lomadia. "You've got to."

"I think it'sh technically forty-five," Zylus put in.

"Oh, right, yeah, of course," said Panda, nudging him with his shoulder. "Ought to be fifty, really, but I s'pose you get a discount for Nilesy because he's actually a bit mad."

"Now _you've_ got to put money in the jar," Lomadia said, smiling at him.

"No I haven't!" Panda objected, pouting.

"You do," said Lomadia.

"You definitely do," Zylus agreed.

"If I've got to, you've got to," Nano said. Panda stuck his tongue out at her.

"Nano should put fifty-five in," said Rythian.

"Fuck off, why?" she demanded.

"Because you called yourself crazy, too."

"I did not. When?"

"Just now."

"I said _you're_ all mad."

"You count," said Lomadia. "I think he's right."

Nano blushed. "It's not what I meant, and you—"

Zylus stood up suddenly, his hand clutching white-knuckled on Panda's shoulder, his face bloodless and his eyes wide. He was staring right at Nilesy. Rythian's heart leapt into his throat and stuck there.

"What—" Lomadia began, rising as well, panic in her voice.

 _"Shh!"_ Zylus hissed, making a quick and restrained gesture at her.

"Zylus, what's—" Panda tried.

 _"Shut up!"_ he insisted.

For nearly a minute, there was silence.

And then Nilesy opened his eyes. Slowly, half-focused, he looked over the assembled crew, all of them whey-faced and shaking.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he returned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Got to do fucking everything round here," he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

"Wh . . . what?" Panda croaked, scarcely audible.

Nilesy sighed.

"Well," he said. "None of _you_ twits could be bothered to break my heart. Had to do it myself."

Lomadia let out a wail and leapt to his side, snatching him up in her arms and burying her face in his shoulder. He yelped in pain, and she hurriedly set him back down, fussing over him, her hands fluttering in gentle panic. Panda hurried over and took his hand, and Zylus wasn't far behind, hovering at the bedside and occasionally touching Nilesy's shoulder as though to confirm he was still really there. Shaking, Rythian got to his feet and tottered over, holding his hands at his sternum like a worried mouse. He kept his distance, not wanting anyone to accidentally touch him with an incautious elbow and ruin the whole thing. Tears gathered in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He only noticed because they blurred Nilesy's image. He could see nothing else, cared for nothing else. Something old and alien fluttered in his chest, long forgotten but never quite lost.

It felt a lot like hope.

"All right," Nilesy said thinly, looking around at the assembled company with unfocused eyes and a strained smile. "Who's the fucker who broke all my goddamn ribs?"

* * *

 

Throughout the evening, plans were made. Nano brought Nilesy something from her medicine cabinet for the pain, and whatever it was knocked him right back out again within a couple of minutes. While he slept, the others stayed in the room, talking about what to do next. They would have to leave the country, they decided. Just because YogLabs had been lenient with them so far in no way guaranteed that there was no retribution to come, especially for Xephos's death. A good few hours were spent picking where to go, although the process was somewhat speeded by the list Panda had already drawn up on his laptop.

"We've talked about thish before," Zylus mentioned, while Panda pulled up the list. "We figured eventually we'd be fugitivesh. It wash jusht a matter of when."

There were over a hundred cities on the list, all across the world, and each one was duly considered and discussed and discarded in turn. In the end, it came down to two choices: Umeå (the pronunciation of which every single one of them mangled horribly), or Las Vegas.

"Remind me again why _Las Vegas_ is on this list?" Nano asked, propping her chin on her hand.

Panda shrugged. "It's a Powered hotspot, for whatever reason. People just _go_ there. I dunno what it is about it, but . . . it's sort of a needle in a haystack situation for us."

 _"Anywhere_ is better than Umeå," said Rythian.

"Sho you've shaid," said Zylus. "Any particular reashon _why?"_

"I lived there for two months," said Rythian. "It's miserable."

"Were you, by chance, _homeless_ those two months?" Nano asked.

He glared at her. "Yes," he said. His fingers, tight on his own forearms, started to ache with remembered cold.

"It's on the ocean," Lomadia said. "Nilesy'll like it better."

"And Shweden'sh got shome of the besht Powered rightsh anywhere," said Zylus. "They've been good about giving ashylum to refugeesh."

"We're not exactly refugees," said Nano. "We're wanted criminals."

"That'sh one pershpective," Zylus said diplomatically.

"I do _not_ want to go to Umeå," said Rythian. "I'm telling you, it's horrible. There's nothing to do. Unless you like cheese and trees and museums. And goddamn snow. And two fucking hours of daylight in the winter. It's all students and old people. And none of them can understand my accent because apparently they've never met anyone from Skåne before."

"I've got to say, I sort of like the idea of Vegas," said Panda, ignoring Rythian. There were very faint little stars in his eye. "It's sort of . . . I dunno. Glamorous."

"It's in a desert," said Lomadia. "It's too hot."

Panda shrugged. "I _guess,"_ he said.

"Hot and _dry,"_ said Rythian, and he couldn't deny that his heart fluttered at the idea.

"It'sh alsho in _America,"_ said Zylus. "Where Powered people get _shot_ on a regular bashish. I don't know about any of you, but I don't really feel like getting _shot_ ish high on my lisht of thingsh I want to do."

"It's not like _every_ Powered person gets shot, Zy," said Panda. "And it's definitely not as bad in Vegas, because there's so many Powered people there to start with. It's nearly ten percent."

Rythian started. "Seriously?" he asked. "That much?"

"Yeah," said Panda. "It's like, a hundred times the normal incidence rate, because that's just where Powered people _go_ in America. I told you. Needles in a haystack."

"Made of needles," said Lomadia. Nano ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What'sh the population like?" Zylus asked.

Panda typed for a bit, frowning at his computer.

"About seven—well, no, seven and half times bigger than Umea," he said. Rythian managed to contain his wince at the mangling of the name.

"That'sh at leasht _one_ point in itsh favor," said Zylus.

"Umeå is tiny and horrible," said Rythian. "We do _not_ want to go there. Why is it even on the list? Why did you put _Umeå_ on this list of places to escape to? Umeå is a place you escape _from._ It's _literally_ hell frozen over."

"One: nobody would _ever_ look for us there," said Panda, "two: healthcare for Powered people is free in Sweden, even foreigners, which is _sort of_ a big thing for me, and three: there's a university there we figure I could get into."

"And I know shomebody there," Zylus put in. "Met her through the blog. She'sh a landlord, and she'd be willing to houshe ush for free for at leasht two monthsh while we find jobsh. At leasht, she wash back when there were only four of ush. Having extrash might cut that down a little."

Rythian snorted. "Good luck finding a job in fucking Umeå," he said.

"Just because _you_ couldn't," said Nano, rolling her eyes.

"I almost froze to death every night for two months," he snapped at her, bristling. "It's not funny."

She dropped her gaze, shifting where she sat. "Sorry," she said.

"Okay," Zylus sighed, rubbing his face. "Why don't we jusht put thish to a vote. All for Umeå?"

He raised his own hand. Nano raised hers. Zylus rolled his eyes and put his hand down.

"And all for fucking Vegash?"

Rythian, Panda, and Lomadia all raised their hands. Zylus shook his head.

"I guess we're going to Vegas," said Nano.

* * *

 

By the time the discussions were done, it was nearly midnight, and the others started making overtures towards bed. Since Nilesy was in Nano's bed, she opted to sleep on the couch rather than trying to move him. Panda and Zylus shared the air mattress, and Lomadia seemed content to perch on the back of the couch and snooze.

"Not sure where we're going to put you, though," Nano said to Rythian, looking him up and down with her arms folded.

"I'm . . . not really tired," he said. It was at least half-true—he certainly didn't feel like sleeping. "I was just going to . . . stay here. With Nilesy. Just—just in case."

"That'sh probably a good idea, actually," Zylus said. "At leasht for the firsht night."

"You don't think he's—" Panda began, the lines around his eye deepening.

"I don't," Zylus said gently. "I think he'sh going to be fine, but it'sh better not to take chanshesh, and if Rythian wantsh to volunteer, great. _I'm_ going the fuck to shleep. Shee you all tomorrow."

He left the room, yawning into his hand. The others went soon after, Panda last of all. He hesitated in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Rythian.

"Um," he said. "Take . . . take good care of him."

"I will," said Rythian.

Panda nodded, and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

For a time, there was only the quiet sound of Rythian's respirator, hissing like gentle rain. He watched the slow swell of Nilesy's breath, the faint twitches of his eyes behind their lids. Nilesy looked older now than he had before—worn, tired, marked by pain. There were lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes.

Slowly, Rythian got to his feet. He was stiff and aching from sitting on the floor all day, and he stretched the kinks out of his back with a muffled groan. Afterwards, he went and sat on the side of Nano's bed. Carefully, he took one of Nilesy's hands in both of his own, one under his palm and one over his wrist. His skin was warm, his pulse steady. He did not stir at Rythian's touch, except perhaps for a little sigh.

Absently, Rythian stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. There were little scratches there, scored by shrapnel from a laser blast that had come much too close for comfort. More scratches peppered the left side of his face, either from the same blast or a similar one. Peeking above the covers, the burns on his chest were red and angry, fingertips reaching up towards his collarbone. Lightning-like squiggles were forming on his shoulder and neck, blood vessels burst from the searing power of the electricity that had run through him. Bruises, too, were blooming there, from the desperate pressure of Nano's hands as she'd tried to revive him. Rythian clenched his teeth and tried not to think about how much it must hurt, especially with the broken ribs underneath.

He looked back up at Nilesy's face to find his eyes open, steady if not entirely clear, watching him. He drew back slightly, but the expression on Nilesy's face was something akin to regret.

"You saved my life," he murmured, his voice low and fragile.

"I—well," said Rythian. "Not—not really, I mean—"

"The handprint's a bit of a fucking giveaway," Nilesy said, a smile curling up the corner of his mouth.

Rythian ducked his head. He bit his lip, unsure of what to say. He felt like he ought to be apologizing. After everything Nilesy had been through, what right had Rythian to drag him back into a world he wanted no part of? All the talk of _going home,_ of being _done,_ of everything being _over,_ and Rythian had taken that chance away from him, had slammed the exit door in his face for no reason other than—

"Thank you," Nilesy said softly.

Rythian froze. His throat knotted up and his eyes stung with tears and his nose was already running under the mask. Something had taken his heart in its hand and was curling its fingers, slowly, slowly.

"You're . . . welcome?" he managed, his voice barely more than a squeak.

Nilesy smiled, letting his head loll on the pillow, turning his eyes to the ceiling.

"It's been a long time since I've died," he said. "Forgot how much it fucking _sucks._ It's that last moment before it all goes dark when you realize all the things you haven't done yet. All the stuff you won't be able to do anymore. Like . . . if I die now, who's going to do Panda's insulin when he's shaking too hard to stick himself? Who's going to kiss Lom goodbye before she goes off hunting? Who's going to get up in the middle of the night to go buy Zylus his migraine meds because he ran out without noticing? Who's going to work a horrendous dead-end fucking job to pay the fucking rent?"

There were slow tears creeping out of the corners of his eyes, his words growing more choked as they poured out of him.

"And—I always wanted a cat. Never got to have one. Never got to fly in an airplane or go in a lighthouse or see a fucking whale or—or fucking beat fucking Mario, god dammit, I fucking hate that stupid fucking game—"

His voice went out with a little squeak, strangled off mid-sentence. After a moment of sniffling, he cracked a smile and shook his head.

"So thank you," he said, looking back over at Rythian with such undisguised adoration on his face that it made Rythian's heart skip a beat. "Thank you for bringing me back."

Rythian couldn't think of anything to say, so he just slipped off his respirator and leaned down and kissed him. Nilesy reached up and tangled his fingers in Rythian's hair, his touch gentle, his skin warm.

When they parted again, Nilesy murmured, "I'm sorry about Lalna."

A part of Rythian's chest caved in, revealing the hollow space beyond. He slipped his respirator back on, then took Nilesy's hand again and sat back, drawing circles on his skin with his thumbs.

"And I'm sorry I tried to drown you," Nilesy went on. He made a face. _"Drown._ I always say _drown,_ because it never felt like murder, did it. I know it didn't, 'cause I've done one that wasn't drowning now, and it was different. It just—never felt like murder. Like, y'know, drowning doesn't kill _me,_ I s'pose I never really believed it killed anybody else, either. Right? I knew, but it never felt like it. But they still died. How the fuck d'you make up for that? Where d'you even fucking _start?"_

Rythian blinked at him. "I—I don't know," he said.

Nilesy shook his head. "Oh, ignore me," he said. "I'm really fucking loopy from whatever that shit was Nano gave me."

"Are you . . . okay?" Rythian asked.

"Fucking _fantastic,"_ said Nilesy. "Nothing hurts. For fucking once. Probably—ahahah—probably best I don't know what she gave me, otherwise. . . ."

Rythian squeezed his hand. "Please don't," he said.

"Nah," said Nilesy. "Loopy as shit, remember? Ignore me. Just saying every fucking thing that comes in my silly old head."

"I don't mind listening," said Rythian.

"I mind," Nilesy murmured. His eyes had gone distant, their lids heavy. "Some things I shouldn't say."

"Like what?" said Rythian, despite himself. His heart was beating faster, a tremor in his limbs.

Nilesy was quiet for a long time. If his eyes hadn't been open, Rythian would have thought he'd fallen asleep again.

"I wish I hadn't killed him," he said quietly. "Xephos."

Rythian blinked, taken aback. "Why—why not?" he asked.

Nilesy's mouth curled into a regretful smile, and his eyes drifted closed.

"So I could've ripped him apart every day for the next fifteen years," he murmured. "Kept him in a—box, or something. . . ."

His voice trailed off, and his breathing slowed and deepened. His hand relaxed in Rythian's.

Rythian waited, but it soon became apparent that Nilesy had fallen back to sleep. Rythian stayed by his side long into the night, until Lomadia slipped in and told him to go get some sleep. He went and curled up in one of the armchairs in the main room, expecting no rest whatsoever.

He fell asleep almost the very moment he shut his eyes.

 


	57. Chapter 56

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Within a day, Nilesy was up and about again, hobbled by pain but generally lucid. Nano refused to admit to herself that she was relieved—if she was, it was only because they would be able to leave sooner, anyway.

She kept a close eye on the news while Zylus made travel arrangements, searching for any sign that YogLabs was getting ready to come after them. There was plenty of coverage on the fight, up to and including the flooding, but no response from YogLabs was ever discussed. The vast majority of reports, in fact, completely divorced the androids from YogLabs, to the point that the name was rarely even mentioned. One article, in fact, conflated the _other_ half of the combatants with the Division, touting them as brave heroes. Nano had to walk away after that, boiling with fury.

How _dare_ YogLabs use her friends' sacrifices to make themselves look good. How dare they claim _credit_ instead of responsibility.

The five of them were seated in the main room, Zylus in an armchair with Panda leaned up against his legs, Nilesy in the other chair, Nano and Rythian on the couch with Lomadia perched behind them. With a sigh, Zylus closed his laptop and sat back.

"There," he said. "I booked ush all ticketsh for Vegash. Two daysh from now, sho we have a little time to get the fake IDsh for the fake namesh I regishtered ush under. By the way, we're going to need fake IDsh."

"I . . . might know somebody," Rythian said, rubbing the back of his head. "I was actually going to see him anyway, just to . . . say goodbye, really. I'm sure he could help."

Zylus nodded. "Good," he said. "Well, if nobody needsh me for anything, I'm going to go drink myshelf into a fucking coma."

Panda looked up at him sharply. "Don't," he snapped. "It's not funny."

Zylus made a face and sighed. "Shorry," he said. "I washn't—it washn't shupposhed to be—"

"It's fine, darling," Nilesy said. "Apology accepted, if you like."

"Yeah, I guess," said Panda.

 _"Doesh_ anybody mind if I get drunk?" Zylus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Depends," said Nilesy. "Are you sharing?"

"Not with you, Mishter Preshcription Painkillersh," Zylus returned. Nilesy made a face at him.

"I don't want any," said Nano. "Thanks though."

Panda chewed his lip. "I probably shouldn't," he said. "I'm still not sure my sugar's recovered from all the stress, and there's not a lot of food about if I suddenly get low. I guess I've still got my glucose tabs, but . . . I dunno, I probably shouldn't."

"How'sh thish," said Zylus. "I'll get fucking washted, but I'll keep the bottle in here sho anybody who _wantsh_ any can _alsho_ get fucking washted."

"Why, though?" Lomadia asked.

Zylus got up, running a hand back over his head.

"Becaushe _fuck it,"_ he said, and went into the kitchen.

Frowning, Panda cocked a thumb at the kitchen. "Is he . . . okay?" he asked.

"Oh, probably," said Nano. "Sometimes you've just got to get drunk. I don't blame him, honestly. Only reason I'm not is . . . well, I've got something to do. Today. Or at least before we leave."

"He's really good at being okay," Lomadia added. She paused, frowning, and looked down at Nano. "What've you got to do?"

She took a deep breath and blew it out through her lips. "I . . . well, it's just . . . I haven't really . . . said goodbye. To Lalna. Um. And I was just going to—just, while nothing's going on—maybe just go through their room a bit and . . . grieve. Properly. While I've still got the chance."

Panda looked down at his hands. Nilesy rubbed his eyebrow, hiding his face behind his hand. Lomadia shifted on the back of the couch. Rythian sat very still, staring at nothing.

"Which, um," Nano said, fidgeting, "I'd like to do alone. Just . . . yeah. Sorry, Rythian. But—maybe when I've done, you could—"

He shook his head, saying nothing. Nano sighed.

Zylus came back in with a glass of what was probably not entirely orange juice and a bottle of something that was certainly not water. He sat down in his chair again, looked around at the assembled, and set the glass on the coffee table. Then he unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a long swig straight out of it. He winced and coughed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Zy, don't—don't do that," Panda said feebly.

Zylus raised an eyebrow at him. "If you could hear the fucking _shitshtorm_ of embarrasshment, guilt, and shelf-fucking-loathing in thish room, you'd be drowning it out, too."

He took another swig out of the bottle.

"Where did you even _get_ that?" Panda asked.

"I wash very forward-thinking on my shupply run," Zylus answered. Grimly, he drank again.

"M-maybe I should just . . . go," Nano said. "Um. And not make this more awkward. Um. Sorry for . . . bringing down the mood, I guess."

"Yesh," Zylus drawled, rolling his eyes. "How dare you remind them all of the pershon they murdered in cold blood."

 _"Zylus,"_ Nilesy warned. "Let's at least _attempt_ to be civil. I _have_ just died, after all, I'd prefer it if you could _not_ be as antagonistic as fucking possible."

Zylus sighed and, after a moment, put the cap back on the bottle. He set it on the coffee table and picked up the glass of not-entirely-orange juice. He nudged Panda with a toe.

"Come here and let me play with your hair," he said. Obligingly, Panda nestled his back against Zylus's shins.

Nilesy looked up at Nano and raised his eyebrows.

"Still going?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'm sure nobody minds if you stay."

"No, I—I want to go now," said Nano. "Just . . . get it over with. Might need the extra couple of days to . . . recover."

Nilesy nodded. "Best of luck," he said.

"Thanks," said Nano. With only a brief hesitation, she turned and set off towards the corridor.

Lalna's room was around the corner, just out of sight of the main room. The door was still closed, still as unassuming as it had ever been. Nano stopped in front of it, wiped her palms on her trousers, moistened her lips with her tongue.

"Okay," she said quietly. "It's . . . okay."

She put her hand on the doorknob. The metal was cold under her fingers, and made her skin tingle. Despite knowing what was behind the door, she wasn't sure she was ready to see it—the heart of Lalna's being, hollow without them. It was the closest to a graveside she'd ever have. Maybe, at least, it was a better tombstone.

Nano shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out and took another one. The doorknob was growing warm under her hand. With a final breath to steel herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

She froze on the spot, stricken, gaping. The door drifted closed behind her and shut with a _click_ that made the earth shiver.

There was someone in Lalna's stasis chair—blond, fat, rosy-cheeked and boyish, with a cute button nose and cupid's bow lips. They were wearing one of Lalna's lab coats, a purple shirt, a pair of jeans. Their eyes were closed, and they weren't breathing, but their pudgy hands were holding up a sign in their lap.

 

_**BOOTING INSTRUCTIONS: OPEN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY** _

 

Nano stood and stared, the world tilting crazily underneath her. It was impossible, it was too good to be true. She must have been dreaming, must have dropped off to sleep on the couch and dreamed up this beautiful, wondrous, _impossible_ world. Her feet were rooted to the floor, her blood singing in her ears, and she didn't dare to move for fear that she would wake up.

She stood for uncounted minutes, and she did not wake up.

Slowly, Nano took a step forward, and then another. Her head was spinning like mad, leaving her tipsy and unsteady. She knelt in front of the person in the chair and carefully took the sign from their lap. It was stapled to the front of a paper folder, filled with sheets of neatly written instructions. The handwriting was so precise it might as well have been typed—unmistakeably Lalna's.

With shaking hands, Nano opened the folder. With tear-smeared eyes, she began to read, running her finger along the lines so as not to miss a word.

 

_Hello,_

_If you are reading this, it is very likely that I am dead; otherwise, you are prying, but I do not think you would pry, since you have not done so in the past. I am sorry that I'm not there anymore. I think it is probably for the best, though. I am damaged, and I do not think I can be repaired. Consider this other self a backup. I have not overwritten the data, and I believe they are whole. Please do not let Xephos anywhere near them._

_I hope you are undamaged, although it is very likely that you are not. I hope I did not damage you. I hope that Rythian has come home, or that we have found him, because I designed this model for him. Even if he is still gone, please wake them up anyway, unless Xephos has found out about this model and wishes to have contact with them._

_If Xephos has found out about this model and wishes to have contact with them, please deposit this model into the incinerator at your earliest convenience without booting them. Alternatively, deposit Xephos into the incinerator at your earliest convenience, if possible. This is the preferable outcome, but I understand that it may not be feasible._

_If you are Xephos, kindly deposit yourself into the incinerator at your earliest convenience._

_If you are not Xephos: I am sorry that I have died. It was not my intention, but I believe it was inevitable. I love you very much._

_—Lalna_

 

_**Section 1: Systems Check** _

_Prior to booting the L41-NA 1.5 model, please ensure that the following systems are properly configured. . . ._

 

Tears rolling down her face, her breath hitching in her chest, Nano read on, following the instructions like gospel.

* * *

 

Nano pressed the final buttons in the back of the neck and closed the little panel. The body was whirring now, and a low hum started up in its chest. She stepped back, shaking, wringing her hands and chewing her lip and _praying_ to anyone who was listening that she hadn't missed something, that the instructions had been accurate, that somehow, some way, this oddly human shell would wake up and still be _Lalna. . . ._

There was a soft _ding,_ and the eyes opened, a cool blue. They blinked twice. The fingers drummed on the chair. The chest swelled with a synthetic breath and there was the sound of a sigh.

The person looked up at her, and their blue eyes turned a springtime green.

"Good morning," they said, and there was no mistaking their voice.

"Lalna?" she whispered, tears already spilling down her face.

"Yes," they said. Their mouth did not move when they spoke. They tipped their head to the side, their expression unchanging. "It has been over five weeks since I was last booted."

"Oh my God," she murmured, still unable to process any of this, still unable to believe her eyes or her ears or her _anything._

Lalna lowered their gaze, and their face slowly pulled into an exaggerated frown. They looked up at her, and their eyes had turned orange.

"What have I missed?" they asked.

With a cry, Nano flung her arms around them and burst into tears, unable to do anything else. Lalna held her, their arms strong and gentle.

It took her a long time to gain coherence, and she spent most of it sobbing into their shoulder. Their new body was soft and squishy, warm to the touch. Even when she'd found her voice again, she didn't feel ready to relate the mad scramble that had been the past month. She sat on Lalna's lap with their arms around her and sniffled.

"Why?" she asked. Their head tipped to the side, and she gestured to their body. "The new—you. Why?"

Lalna shrugged. "I required a body that was optimized for hugging. I told you I was working on it." Their eyebrows lifted. "Where is Rythian?"

"He's—oh, God, I hadn't even—" Her head was spinning. It was too much to handle, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how Rythian would react.

Not to mention the others—particularly Nilesy—but that was far too much to worry about just now.

"He's undamaged," Lalna said, worried, "isn't he?"

"Yes," she assured them hurriedly. "Yes, he's—he's okay, just— _God,_ Lal, you've been . . . well, you've been . . . dead."

They blinked at her, their eyes a bright orange.

"Oh," they said. "My other self was destroyed?"

"Yeah, I—yeah."

Lalna's eyes shaded to a deep, amethyst purple. "I see," they said softly, hanging their head. "I will miss them. They weren't well. I wanted to help, but they said I wasn't ready."

"I'm . . . sorry, Lal," Nano said.

"Thank you," said Lalna. Their chest swelled out and fell back, and they made the sighing sound again. "What happened?" they asked.

Nano bit her lip, wondering how much to tell them, wondering where to even start. She wasn't sure she had any right to tell Rythian's secrets, wasn't sure they shouldn't stay buried.

"Well," she hedged, "what's the last thing you remember?"

Lalna cast their eyes to the ceiling. "I remember that you were late from getting coffee," they said. "You had encountered someone you knew, although you would not say who. That was when I was in my original body, before I was copied and transferred. I was booted in this body several times as my other self attempted to debug me. I recall that they were highly distressed. They said that Rythian was missing, but that they were going to find him. I asked why they had not updated my consciousness with theirs and they would not answer."

Nano nodded, her body filling with dread and apprehension as she thought of everything that had come after. She rested her head on Lalna's shoulder, breathing in the oil and hydraulic smell of them, tinged with a rubbery scent that must have been whatever their new flesh was made of.

"Right," she sighed. "I suppose I'd better . . . tell you what's happened."

"I would like that," said Lalna.

"Not so sure you will," she mumbled, "but okay. Well, first things first: we found Rythian. . . ."

* * *

 

It took over an hour, but she managed to convey most everything that had happened in the past weeks, from the massacre at _Joule's_ to Xephos's death to the rise and fall of Lalnable and their clones. Lalna listened quietly through all of it, nodding and occasionally making exaggerated faces. When she had done, they sat for a moment, whirring.

"Everyone is here?" they asked.

"Yeah," said Nano. "Except Zoey and Fiona. The others are . . . probably all out in the main room still."

"I would like to see them now," said Lalna. Their eyes were a cool blue, giving away nothing. "Especially Rythian."

"Lalna," Nano said, and hesitated. "Are you . . . angry?"

They shook their head. "No," they said. "I am . . . not certain what I feel, but it is not anger. I would like to see Rythian, please. And I would like to introduce myself to the others, since you and Rythian are their friends now. I would like to be their friend, too, and I do not think our previous introductions are appropriate for friends."

Nano looked up at them, a fresh wash of tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh, God, Lal," she said. "You're—you—"

They tipped their head to the side, their eyes going orange. "Yes?" they said.

Nano hugged them. "You're too fucking good for this world," she mumbled.

They patted her back.

"I do not think so," they said. "But I think I am good enough."

Somehow, she managed to let go of them and get to her feet. They stood as well, moving slowly, testing their balance. When they were upright, they towered over her, just as tall as they'd ever been. They took a moment to steady themselves, then looked down at her and smiled.

"I am ready," they said.

Nano took them by the hand and led them out into the main room. Their ponderous weight made the floorboards creak, and the sound nearly made her cry again.

They were real. They were _home._

The two of them came out into the main room. All of the others were right where she'd left them, and all of them looked up as Nano and Lalna entered, and time wound down and stopped like an old music box.

"Everyone," Nano said quietly, her voice shaking, tears and a smile on her face. "This is Lalna."

Slowly, Rythian got to his feet, as though the air was made of molasses. He was staring at Lalna, his pale blue eyes wide as dinner plates, his hands shaking, his breath coming in short, hissing gasps through the new respirator. Lalna moved forward, their hand slipping out of Nano's, walking right up to Rythian and stopping only a foot away. Rythian shied back, his hands clasped at his sternum, his eyes flicking up and down over them. Lalna looked him over and smiled. Their eyes were shifting back and forth between bright pink and deep purple.

"You are undamaged," they said, their voice soft and, somehow, shaking.

"You—" Rythian said, his voice barely a gasp, barely a breath. "You're—you—"

"I am a second model," Lalna said. "My other self constructed me to be optimized for hugging. I told you I was working on it."

"But—but—Lalna—" Rythian gasped, hyperventilating. Lalna extended a hand and he shrank back from it as though it would bite him.

"We tested this model extensively," said Lalna. "It can withstand voltages of up to one hundred and twenty thousand volts. You will not hurt me."

Rythian stared at the hand, and then looked up at Lalna's face, and then back down at the hand.

"I—" he said, still struggling to breathe. "Are you—are you— _sure?"_

Lalna's hand did not waver, nailed to the air, steady as only a machine could be.

"Yes," they said.

Hands shaking so hard they were blurring, Rythian reached out, his teary eyes fixed on Lalna's hand. He hesitated, swallowed, took a deep and shuddering breath.

He touched their hand with his fingertips.

Lalna smiled.

"I told you I was sure," they said.

Rythian crumpled like he'd been punched in the chest, all the air rushing from his body in something that was nearly a laugh. He took Lalna's hand in both of his, squeezing so hard it turned his knuckles white. He laughed again. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. With a wordless cry, he flung himself on Lalna, hugging them like a baby possum clutching its mother. Lalna folded their arms around him. Their eyes had turned bright, rosy pink.

"I missed you very much," they murmured.

Rythian pried himself off of Lalna, ripped the respirator off his face, and kissed them on the mouth. They stiffened in surprise, then kissed him back, slow and unsure at first, then learning his rhythm, putting a hand on the back of his head, letting him melt into them. Their eyes drifted closed.

"Oh, _jeez,"_ Nano said, rolling her eyes, which were still crying. Her voice was stuffy, but she was determined not to let that stop her. "Get a room, you two."

Rythian broke off the kiss, taking a half step back, blushing profusely. He slipped his respirator back on and breathed deeply.

"Ah yes!" said Lalna, brightening. "I have also included modifications to facilitate sexual intercourse!"

Rythian made a noise like a tea kettle boiling over and buried his face in Lalna's chest. Panda started laughing so hard he fell over, rolling on the floor.

"Fucking _sherioushly?"_ Zylus cried, exasperated. Lomadia hid a laugh behind her hand. Nilesy was shaking his head, biting back a smile.

"Lalna that—that's maybe not something to mention in public," Nano said, trying her damnedest to keep the laughter out of her voice. She wiped the tears off her face and sniffled.

"I see," Lalna said seriously. "I'm sorry. I was very proud of it."

"It's—yes, that's fine, but it's not really . . . polite, to mention in public," Nano said. Panda was having difficulty collecting himself.

"Oh God," he gasped. "Oh, God, my stomach hurts."

Lalna looked over at the assembled company. Gently, they peeled Rythian off of their chest and looked at him very seriously.

"I am going to meet everyone else," they said. "We have not been properly introduced, and I think that I should introduce myself, now that we are not attempting to kill each other anymore. If we are all going to be friends, we should have a friendly introduction."

"That's fine," Rythian managed, his voice a bare squeak. As soon as Lalna let go of him, he buried his face in his hands.

Lalna surveyed the room, paused a moment, then walked up to Nilesy. He got up out of his chair, perhaps faster than was friendly, and backed away a step. Lalna stopped immediately, regarding him, expressionless. Their eyes had turned blue. Nilesy looked back at them, apprehensive, tense.

Face to face, the resemblance was uncanny.

"God," Nano breathed, struck.

Lalna and Nilesy turned to her, and both their heads tipped to the side in identical expressions of puzzlement.

"What?" said Nilesy, his eyes narrowing.

Nano gestured weakly. "It's just—you two look _just_ alike. It's— _wow._ Sorry."

Nilesy and Lalna looked back at each other. Lalna smiled.

"You're—" they began.

But Nilesy had gone white, his fists clenched at his sides. He took another step back.

 _"Fuck_ this," he hissed. "Fuck this—fucking _thing!"_

And he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

"Nilesy!" Panda exclaimed, shocked. He started to get to his feet.

"Let him go," Zylus said quietly. He drained the last of his probably-not-orange juice and set the glass down with a _thunk_ of finality. "Jusht—let him go."

Lalna was staring after Nilesy, their eyes a deep purple.

"He is upset," they said sadly. They turned to Nano. "I don't understand. Did I upset him?"

"No, Lalna, no," Nano said. "You didn't. He's just—he's got some issues. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay?"

They paused a moment, and then their face pulled into an exaggerated frown. "Something must have upset him. I cannot think of any other cause except for me."

"Well . . . well, just because he's upset _because_ of you, doesn't mean you did anything _wrong,"_ said Nano, uncomfortable. "I mean—"

"Nilesy gets upset sometimes," said Lomadia. "It's okay. He'll get better."

Lalna turned to look at her. They regarded her for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," they said. "I wanted to know what I did wrong so that I could refrain from doing it again. I am concerned that what I did wrong was _exist._ He does not like me."

Lomadia shrugged. "Not everybody's going to like you. It's okay."

Lalna paused again. Their eyes turned orange, and the frown faded from their face. Once again, they nodded.

"I see," they said. "I will remember that." They walked up to Lomadia and stuck out a hand. "Friendly introductions should continue nonetheless. I'm Lalna."

Lomadia smiled and took their hand. "I'm Lomadia," she said. "I'm glad we're not trying to kill each other anymore. I like you."

Lalna's eyes turned bright green, and after a moment, they smiled. "I like you, too!" they said.

Introductions continued, awkwardly in Panda's case and unsteadily in Zylus's. Nano stood to one side and folded her arms, watching Lalna work whatever magic they had that somehow made everyone love them instantly.

She glanced at the corridor where Nilesy had stormed off. _Nearly_ everyone, anyway.

Rythian moved up next to her and cleared his throat.

"Um," he said.

"I didn't tell them," she said quietly. "But you should."

Rythian stiffened. He ducked his head and rubbed his neck.

"Um. Right. Yes. That. But—but I was just . . . thinking. Um. M-maybe you could . . . go see if Nilesy's okay."

She raised an eyebrow, still watching Lalna as they cooed over Lomadia's wings, using phrases like _nonstandard-model human_ and _fascinating anatomy_ and _very pretty._

"Why me?" she asked.

Rythian shrugged. "I don't . . . um, I just think you're . . . better qualified. To talk about Lalna. Than I am. And it—there's—things. With him and me. And, um. . . ."

"And you just snogged somebody else right in front of his face?" Nano suggested, an edge to her voice.

Fidgeting, Rythian said, "Um. Yes. That's—definitely a thing that happened."

"I _should_ make _you_ do it," Nano said. "This's your dirty dishwater and you've got to soak in it. _But,_ since something's clearly wrong with Nilesy and since this should be a celebratory sort of day, I'll go talk to him. You stay here with Lalna and just—be happy, fuck's sake."

"Thank you," Rythian mumbled.

"You've _got_ to tell them," Nano said sternly, glaring at him. "I'm doing this on the condition that you come clean once things've calmed down. Got it?"

He nodded, eyes downcast. "Yes," he said.

Nano paused, just a moment, then swept him into a hug.

"You're an idiot," she said, "and I love you."

Before he could say anything in return, she let him go and walked away.

 


	58. Chapter 57

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

Nilesy had found a dark and deserted corner to curl up in, his back pressed to one wall and his shoulder to another, knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. Something inside him was hurting so bad it must have been physical, some internal organ he'd ruptured with his little flooding stunt, filling his guts up with blood and killing him with slow agony. His mind was coming loose, tearing away one spider-thread mooring at a time, kicking down towards the cold abyss at the core of him. He buried his face in his knees and took a shuddering breath, rocking back and forth slowly.

He had no idea how long he stayed there, shaking and rocking and fighting tooth and nail to keep from sinking, to keep from drowning in the seas of himself. At some point, there were footsteps, approaching and then stopping.

"Oy," Nano said. Her voice was flat, giving nothing away.

Nilesy drew a long breath and tried to focus on her presence, on the things that were here and now and those things only. He managed to lift his head. Although he did not look at Nano, he could see her in his peripheral vision, standing a few feet off and regarding him critically.

"It looks like _me,"_ he said, his voice choked and raw.

"They," Nano snapped. "And so what?"

Nilesy curled tighter into himself, the hollow spaces ringing with pain. "I died," he said. "And he made a robot that looks like _me."_

There was a pause. Nano opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. She shrugged.

"Yeah," she said, helpless against the truth.

"He _replaced_ me," said Nilesy.

"That's—I'm not sure that's what happened, Nilesy," she said. She folded her arms, looking away from him.

"Yeah?" he said, and there was a razor edge in his voice, teetering on the brink of giggling madness. "Then what _did_ happen, Dr. Sounds? What _is_ that fucking _thing,_ and why has it got _my face?"_

"Stop calling them an _it,"_ she said, bristling. "Be as angry as you want, but don't take it out on _them,_ fuck's sake."

Nilesy took a deep, slow breath and let it out again.

"His son died," he said, "and he built himself a new one. Sorry if I'm not fucking _thrilled_ to meet my fucking _replacement."_

"I really don't think that's what happened," Nano insisted. "Maybe—maybe this was just his way of . . . grieving, or—"

Nilesy barked out a sharp laugh, digging his fingernails into his arms.

"You don't know a fucking thing about him," he spat. "D'you know, he knew I couldn't talk without the mask on. The nurses at Fair Isle told him so, I heard them. _Interesting development,_ they called it. Like I was some kind of _rat._ He used to pull it off my face in the middle of sentences when he visited. Just to see what I'd do. I was an _experiment._ I was a _problem_ to be solved. And when I died, he built himself a new son. A better son. Much easier to control. _I died_ and he put _my fucking face_ on a machine built to slaughter people like _me._ He hated me, Dr. Sounds. The only thing he fucking _grieved_ was all the lost progress on his experiments."

Nano stood there blinking. She swallowed, licked her lips, shrugged again.

"You still don't get to take it out on Lalna," she said.

"Why not?" said Nilesy. "Figure I might as well make myself as unpleasant as possible, so no one'll miss me when they replace me _again."_

Nano looked up at him sharply, and a flicker of pain crossed her face.

"Lalna's not going to replace you," she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly, as though she was fighting down some stronger emotion.

"They should," said Nilesy. "It'd be an upgrade, honestly. Trade out the monster for the machine. At least _they_ never _meant_ to hurt anybody."

Nano took a sharp breath as though to retort, and Nilesy braced himself for a blow, verbal or otherwise. It did not come. Nano let the breath out again.

"Nilesy," she said, her voice taut, "what do you _want?"_

This time, it was his turn to pause. What _did_ he want? His insides were all a thorny tangle, his mind awash with aching loneliness and the bitter sting of abandonment.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes, actually. Because I feel like, maybe, if you _get_ what you want, you'll stop being so goddamn insufferable, and I won't have to put up with this shit anymore."

Again, he was quiet for some time.

"I want it to stop _hurting,"_ he said quietly, and his voice came out so fragile and so _young_ that it made him want to break himself, shatter that glass-boned child upon the rocks and finally be rid of his own company.

"It will," Nano said gently. "Give it time."

He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff.

"It won't," he said. "Some things don't ever stop hurting."

"Some things haven't yet," she said. "Doesn't mean they never will."

"You don't know that," he said. "You can't know that."

She shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

"And is it _worth_ it?" he demanded, his whole body tensing. "Is it worth hurting for God knows how long, waiting for it to stop? Gasping at the promise of hope while you're _drowning_ in pain, is it worth it if nobody's going to save you? Is it worth killing yourself to stay afloat if you're just going to sink in the end anyway?"

"You tell me," she said.

He ground his teeth, his arms tight and trembling around his own legs. His broken ribs ached with deep pain, the burns on his chest stung and smarted. He remembered the cold darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision, whispering with all the things left undone, all the joys abandoned at the graveside, all the pain fading to terrible _nothingness._

He rested his forehead on his knees and sighed.

"Of fucking course it is," he mumbled.

A couple of floorboards creaked, and Nano sat down next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, gentle.

"There are plenty of people here to help you," she said quietly. "We can't save you, but if you're drowning, we can at least throw you something that floats. You've just got to catch it. And I think at least a few of us know which way the shore is."

Nilesy sniffled. Some of the trembling had gone out of him, and since his fingers were aching, he stopped digging them into his calves.

"Thought you hated me," he said.

"I did," said Nano. "And I'm not sure I'll ever _like_ you. But . . . nobody should have to do this alone. And if you want my help, it's here."

He sniffled again and coughed out a laugh.

"Anybody ever told you you're an angel?" he asked.

"I prefer _Valkyrie,_ thanks," she said, and patted his shoulder. "D'you want me to stay, or can I get back to my adopted robot child?"

Nilesy shook his head. "Go. I still need a bit."

She patted his shoulder again. "Whenever you're ready," she said, and left.

* * *

 

Some time later, the floorboards started creaking again. Nilesy lifted his head, leaving tear stains on his knees.

Rythian stopped in the corridor a few feet away, wringing his hands, his eyes darting.

"Um," he said.

Nilesy sighed. He tipped his head towards the wall to his left.

"Come sit," he said.

Eyes lowered, Rythian scuttled over and sat down in the other corner, curling himself up much as Nilesy had done. Nilesy watched him, waiting, the ache in his chest deepening with every breath. It didn't help that the latest round of painkillers was wearing off.

"I, um," said Rythian. "I just . . . it's just that. . . ."

"Is this the bit where you leave me?" Nilesy asked. "Only, if it is, I think I'll be having some of Zylus's _fuck it,_ and painkillers be damned."

Rythian looked up sharply. "What?" he said.

"You know," Nilesy said, his voice light even though his heart was crumbling. "The bit where you leave me because Lalna's back and it's always been them you loved, after all, that sort of thing."

"No?" Rythian guessed, his eyes darting. "This—this is the part where I . . . apologize? For—for kissing somebody else? In front of you? Without . . . talking about it first?"

Nilesy stared at him. The pain had mostly gone, vanished suddenly in a puff of vapor, but nothing had come to replace it.

"Oh," he said.

"It's just—I didn't—it's sort of—I mean _technically_ we never, um, broke up," Rythian said. "They just—I just sort of—ran off, and—and they didn't—and then they _died,_ so—so it's not like—it's sort of complicated—"

"Yes," said Nilesy, "it is that."

"And—and it's just—I just—I didn't mean to—"

"Rythian," said Nilesy. "It's honestly all right."

"It's—it _is?"_ said Rythian, his eyes going wide. Nilesy nearly smiled.

"They've been dead," he said. "You don't just _not_ snog somebody who's been dead when they come walking up to you right as rain."

"I—I guess?" said Rythian. "But—"

"But you'll be communicating a bit better from now on, I'll tell you that," Nilesy said.

"I—yes," said Rythian, hanging his head. "That's . . . definitely something I need to . . . do."

There was a moment of quiet.

"They don't know," Nilesy said. "Do they."

"Not . . . yet," said Rythian. He shrugged. "I'll tell them. Soon."

"Damn right you will," said Nilesy. "From a technical standpoint, you've been cheating on them all this time, and I will _not_ be party to that sort of thing."

Rythian bent his head further, nearly resting his forehead on his knees.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Nilesy sighed and got to his feet. His body was full of aches and pains, shaky and weak even after a day's recuperation. He held out his hands to Rythian, waited until he looked up, and smiled at him.

"Up you get," he said. "Unless you _need_ to mope, in which case, don't let me stop you, God knows it'd be hypocritical."

Rythian's eyes narrowed into crescent moons, and he took Nilesy's hands. Nilesy helped him up, but didn't let go afterwards. He met Rythian's eyes and held them, and his heart fluttered. Color rose to Rythian's cheeks, but he did not look away.

"I'll forgive you," Nilesy said softly, "on the one condition that you kiss me like you've just kissed them. I _have_ been dead, too, after all."

Rythian nodded, his cheeks very pink indeed.

"O-okay," he said, his voice squeaking. "I can—I can do that."

Nilesy stood on Rythian's toes and reached up to take the respirator off him. Rythian cupped Nilesy's face in his hands and drew him in. Nilesy tangled one hand in the back of Rythian's hair, leaning into him.

His lips were as warm as Nilesy remembered, stubble scraping his chin like sandpaper. His breath was hot, and Nilesy's skin tingled wherever it touched him. His heart pounded in his chest, his blood coursed in his veins and made his whole body light up warm and pink.

Rythian wrapped one arm around his waist and clutched him close. Nilesy's knees nearly went out from under him, even though the motion sent arrows of pain through his broken ribs. He tightened his hand in Rythian's hair, leaning into him, tasting his tongue—

The two of them overbalanced and Rythian fell back against the wall with a loud _thump._ Nilesy broke off the kiss, under the pretense of getting Rythian's respirator back on him before any sparks decided to make the matter urgent. He patted Rythian on the shoulder and stepped back, straightening his shirt.

"Yes, well—well done, that'll do," he said, somewhat breathless. He ran a hand back through his hair.

Rythian made a noise like _mweh?_ His eyes were wide and slightly unfocused.

Nilesy smiled. He took Rythian's face in his hands and kissed his respirator.

"Forgiven," he said gently. "Now get back to your bloody miracle, you thirsty twit."

* * *

 

The house was quiet that night, quiet and dark and sleepy. Nilesy woke some time in the darkest hours of the morning, when all the world was still and lights were at their loveliest. He slipped out from between Lomadia and Panda, trying not to jostle the air mattress. He kissed each of them on the lips before he went, just in case he'd woken them.

His chest was aching, his broken ribs full of pain, so he felt his way along the walls until he found the kitchen, where Nano had left out exactly one white oblong pill for him to have in the night. He took it with a sip of water, cupping the stream from the faucet in his hands, enjoying the feel of it on his skin, bright and attentive.

For all the grief it had brought him, it was still one of his favorite things in the world.

Nilesy headed out of the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Zylus was passed out in his chair, apparently still unwakeable after quietly losing consciousness about halfway through his bottle. Rythian was asleep on the couch, his breathing loud and steady through the respirator. Nilesy stood and watched him for a moment, a smile playing across his lips. With a sigh, he turned back towards the corridor, heading for bed.

The robot was standing there, watching him with their head on one side. Nilesy froze, his breath catching, his heart hammering in his chest. In the darkness, their eyes were faintly luminescent, casting a blue glow over their face.

 _His_ face, transposed, perfected.

"Ah," said Nilesy, resisting the urge to turn tail and run like hell. "Ah. Hallo, you."

"They told me everything," Lalna said. Their stillness was uncanny, their attention uncomfortable.

A nervous giggle burst from Nilesy's lips and he had to resist clapping a hand over his mouth.

 _"Everything?_ Really? Ahahah, well. Grand."

He glanced at Rythian, still asleep on the couch, and rubbed the back of his head. He gave Lalna his most sheepish smile and started to edge around them.

"Well! I s'pose I'll just be—going! Then. Back to bed. Sorry about killing you, honestly, nothing personal, glad you've got better—"

"You're my brother," Lalna said.

The whole world fell out from under Nilesy. He stared up at Lalna, agape, his head spinning. It was entirely likely that his heart had stopped again. Feeling faint, he tottered to a dining room chair and deposited himself in it.

"Oh," he said.

Lalna followed him and sat down on the floor near his feet. Their head tipped to the side in puzzlement.

"You're upset," they said.

"I . . . we're . . . _not_ siblings," he managed, his voice shaking.

"I know that Xephos was not technically my father," they said, hanging their head.

"Well he sure as _hell_ wasn't mine," Nilesy snarled.

A silence settled between them, deep and churning. Nilesy leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at his hands, stained a vibrant purple by the light of Lalna's eyes.

"He kept calling me a _he,"_ Lalna said at last. "Even though I'm not one. He wouldn't listen when I told him he was wrong. I told him it hurt, and he kept doing it anyway."

Nilesy snorted. "Fucking typical," he muttered.

There was another long silence. This time it was Nilesy who broke it.

"He forgot my birthday," he said. "Every year. Oh, I'm sure he _remembered,_ technically, but he never cared. It was just a number to him."

"That's horrible," said Lalna, sounding absolutely sincere. "When is your birthday?"

Nilesy hesitated, then answered, "Nineteenth of June."

Nodding, Lalna said, "Okay. I won't forget."

There was a sudden, stinging pain in Nilesy's sinuses, his eyes welling with tears, and he looked up at Lalna with an ache in his chest that seemed to run deeper than his whole person.

"Promise?" he whispered, unable to speak with any more force than that.

Lalna nodded again, and gave him a thumbs-up, their eyes shifting to blue, and then towards green.

"I promise," they said.

Something that had been empty inside him for a long, _long_ time suddenly flooded full, running over and spilling warmth over all his insides, and he slid off his chair and flung his arms around Lalna's huge chest, hugging them so tight it nearly pulled his arms out of their sockets. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he was so full of _feeling_ he thought he might burst.

Lalna placed their hands on his back, returning the embrace without a moment's hesitation. Nilesy sniffled, swallowing down sobs. He managed to collect himself, somehow, eventually.

"D'you think," he said brokenly, "there could be cake? Never got to have cake."

Lalna considered.

"Yes," they said happily. "I have always wanted to make a birthday cake."

 


	59. Epilogue

_Art by[Kalgalen](http://kalgalen.tumblr.com/)_

 

The meeting room was brightly lit, which Strife had not expected. He was not a fanciful man, but everything he knew about the YogLabs Administrative Board had painted it to be the sort of thing that met in darkened rooms, possibly with codenames.

There were two empty seats at the table, and the nearest Board member gestured to one of them. Strife sat down in it, surveying the company.

The man nearest to him was young, and he had the glow of profound and prolonged wealth. His curly hair was a burnished auburn, and gold glittered at his wrists and on his tie clip. A diamond sparkled on his earlobe, although there was a gap in his teeth when he smiled. By the look of him, he probably thought it was _charming._

To his left, there was a hulking giant of a man, broad-shouldered and tall, with mutton-chop sideburns framing a strangely boyish face. Directly opposite Strife was a dark-haired man with sleek spectacles and a perpetually friendly face, the kind of face you put on television when things were going horribly wrong and you didn't want anyone to know. Next to him was a slight little waif of a person, their long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, their eyes bright and calculating and vulpine. Then the empty seat, and then Strife, sitting there and trying not to fidget.

"Welcome, Mr. Strife," said the giant, smiling amiably. He spoke with an American accent, somewhere west-coast. "We're so glad you could join us. I'm Kirin, this is Ridge, Hulmes, and Lying. Yes, don't mind the name, they're foreign. I'm afraid Honeydew couldn't join us today, he's off sick from work ever since Dr. Xephos died."

Strife's hands clenched in his lap. He said nothing.

"Similarly, Dr. Xephos can't join us because he's dead," Kirin went on. "It's a little unfortunate, but! Really none of us expected him to go any other way."

"You did _so,"_ said Ridge, leering at him. He was also American. "You bet it was gonna be the robot. And you _still_ have to pay up."

"I don't gamble," Kirin said, utterly straight-faced.

"Oh, _really?"_ Lying purred, their eyes flashing. Despite Kirin's claim that they were _foreign,_ they spoke without a hint of anything but British. "This is a new development. Since when, Kirin?"

"Probably since he _lost,"_ Ridge said.

"All right, all right," Hulmes cut in, smiling at the lot of them. "Let's not bicker in front of our guest, shall we? Plenty of time to sort this out later."

"Yeah, thanks," said Strife. "Sorry to butt in, but why the hell am I here?"

 _"Well!"_ said Hulmes, leaning forward and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "As things have turned out, Mr. Strife, you now own a _significant_ portion of the YogLabs stocks: our entire Strife Solutions branch!"

Strife ground his teeth and wrung his hands in his lap, imagining the feeling of strangling all the chipper right out of this bastard. He stayed quiet, though, because he had a hunch where all this was going.

"Because of that," Hulmes went on, "we thought: well, we've just lost a Board member, haven't we? And we can't leave one of our major stockholders out in the cold. So we've asked you, Mr. Strife, to come here, so that we can formally offer you a position on the YogLabs Administrative Board."

"I accept," Strife said immediately.

Hulmes's face got even happier, to the point it was almost grotesque. Kirin blinked in mild surprise, Lying smirked at him, and Ridge laughed.

"Oh, wow, okay," Ridge said. "Well _that_ was easy. Great! Good meeting, let's go home."

"Hang on," said Strife. Everyone at the table looked at him. "Don't you people have a bunch of murderers to catch?"

Kirin exchanged a glance with Ridge, and Lying shared a look with Hulmes.

"I don't think so," said Kirin.

"Oh, _really?"_ said Strife. "Because last I checked, there were a bunch of freaks running around loose after murdering Llewellyn Xephos. Y'know, the one who used to be on this board?"

"Ah," said Lying, leaning back in their chair. "Well, it's not as though they didn't do us a service. We must be willing to let _some_ things go, after all."

"A _service?"_ said Strife, tasting fire on his breath.

"Quite a major one, actually," said Hulmes. "Those robots had to be got rid of, and it's always a good day when one hasn't got to ask the Division for anything."

"Wait wait wait, wait just a second, you _wanted_ those things gone?" Strife said, holding up a hand and scowling.

"Yes, unfortunately," Kirin sighed. "Llewellyn may have been a brilliant scientist, but he was. . . ."

"A total nutcase?" Ridge filled in brightly. Kirin glared at him.

"I was going to say _an extremist._ His values were not well-aligned with those of YogLabs. Really, I'd say those murderers of yours did us two favors."

"Oh yes," said Lying. "I wasn't looking forward to hiring the assassins. Especially the effort it would take to actually kill someone like Llewellyn, that gets _very_ expensive."

Strife stared at them. "You're kidding."

Lying grinned a vampire grin and winked at him. "Am I?" they asked sweetly.

"Tip for ya," Ridge said, leaning over to speak in Strife's ear. "Don't piss off Lying."

Strife glared at him until he retreated back to his own personal space. He turned to Kirin.

"So that's it?" he said. "You just let them walk, no consequences, no nothing?"

"For now," said Kirin. "Once they come back and try to take down the _rest_ of YogLabs, then we'll deal with them. A couple of our best people down in Section L have assured me they have it under control, and I believe them. No matter where our happy anarchists go, there's not much strength they can gather."

"We, on the other hand, have some _wonderful_ little plans in store," said Lying.

"You're gonna _love_ 'em," said Ridge. "Just you wait."

Kirin held up a hand, still with that amiable smile on his face.

"Now, now, gentlemen and other, let's not overwhelm the poor man," he said. "Mr. Strife, as of now, do you have any questions for us? Any at all, no secrets here."

"Yeah," said Strife. "Just one."

Kirin gestured magnanimously. Ridge raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Strife put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, glaring around at the company's expectant faces.

_"Where the hell is Parvis?"_

 

 

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here, at the end of things, I would like to dedicate this work:
> 
> First and foremost, to Kalgalen. Their art has undoubtedly been the reason this story got and stayed so big. They’ve been a constant inspiration to me, from the moment they suggested “superheroes?” when I asked what I should write after AHMA to the very last line of the epilogue. I couldn’t have done this without them and I am immensely, eternally grateful. If you have the time, I would highly recommend checking out their blog, following them, and, if you can, commissioning them. The entirety of the work they did for this story was free of charge, which still boggles my mind. They deserve the world;
> 
> To im2tired4usernames, for being patient and helpful when I asked bundles and bunches of diabetes questions at all hours of the day and night, and for her unwavering positivity;
> 
> To thebulldogartist and rebelinks, whose support helped me get through my worst periods;
> 
> To kr1g, who spent at least half an hour telling me about Umeå so that a single-page conversation could be as realistic as possible;
> 
> To irlknife, who made a fantastic aesthetic blog (poweredvillains) that continues to delight me daily;
> 
> To Sparx, who is a constant inspiration to me;
> 
> And to all of you who read, who kudo’d, who commented, who drew fanart and wrote fic, made aesthetic boards and moodboards, who asked questions and yelled in the tags. You made this what it was, and I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> Thank you.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Koozies and Testing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678267) by [WesternSkyNaida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternSkyNaida/pseuds/WesternSkyNaida)




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